For the love of life and living
by hellolittlemonsterz
Summary: Just a series of drabbles/prompts, probably tumblr based concerning the lives of everyone's favorite group of Apocalypse survivors. This will mostly be about Daryl and Carol, as well as the pairing Caryl, but who knows? Somebody else might be thrown in along the way.
1. Safe and Sound

**So, I've had a few requests for a multi-chapter fic, and I know this isn't exactly what you guys had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!  
I do have plans to start an actual multi chapter fic in the near future (sometime after Christmas probably) but for now, I'm just getting my feet wet and appeasing my inner squealing fangirl. **

**All chapters are stand alone, and probably won't be continued, but they may be referenced in other chapters. Who knows, they may all end up in the multi fic!**

**Tumblr Prompt by:celestineatma**

**None of the Walking Dead belongs to me. **

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The air was hot, and Carol could tell that the summer was rolling in. No more shifty weather, no more random cold fronts. From here on out, it was going to be hot. She liked it that way. Before the world had collapsed, she had always preferred the winter, but having spent it outside, half starved and constantly looking over her shoulder, she felt this was better.

It wasn't her watch, but she couldn't stop herself from pacing the fence, fingering the handle of the pistol on her belt, not wasting ammo, but always at the ready.

Rick had Judith, which was a welcome change. She didn't mind looking over the little girl, in fact, in the four days since she had met her, she had already fallen in love with the little one. The change was welcome because, not only did Rick need to spend more time with his children while he could, but it also gave Carol the time she needed to think.

It had been three days since Rick had returned from Woodbury with Glenn and Maggie, the other one-Micchone- tagging along. She hadn't had the time to do a head count, had been called into the cell block almost immediately. Both Glenn and Micchone had needed treatment; Hershel had needed as much help as he could get tending to them.

And then there had been the new group that Carl had bravely (and stupidly) brought back to the cells. Rick had had a fit, not trusting them, not wanting them around. They had begged, they had pleaded, and eventually Rick had given in. They were in cell block D with Axel, now that Oscar was a missing face.

Those three days had passed and Carol had had next to no time alone. She had been thankful of that at first, after the initial realization of loss had hit her.

After stitching up Glenn, she had the opportunity to count the faces. Two were missing.

Oscar had been shot off of Woodbury's protective wall. Maggie had told her tearfully, explaining how he had been lost helping Glenn over the wall.

Daryl's familiar face had been the only other one she had been unable to find. He wasn't with Rick, he wasn't outside, and he wasn't sitting stoically in the corner.

She remembered letting out a small, strangled whine that had caused everyone in the room to look at her.

_"Carol? Are you okay?" Glenn asked, wincing slightly_ _when he turned to look at her. The group had barely been back an hour, but with the combined healing power of herself and Hershel, Glenn was patched up and clean. _

_ This was the first moment Carol had been able to think._

"_Where's Daryl?" She asked, her voice cracking and catching in her_ _throat. She could feel the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. She knew the answer._

"_We don't know" Maggie murmured, quickly taking a seat beside Carol, pulling both of her hands into her own. Hershel and Beth watched, both intent on the whereabouts of their missing brother._

_ Maggie took little notice of her father and sister when she told Carol the truth. Her family would be upset, but Maggie knew how close Daryl and Carol had become, even if they themselves didn't._

_ "We don't know what happened to him," she admitted quietly, "He was right behind us, said he had our backs. There were some seriously heavy shots coming down. We made it over the wall, but he didn't…" She paused for a minute, taking the time to assess Carol's shaking hands, and silent tears._

_ "We wanted to wait, but the gun shots were bringing down the Walkers, and Glenn was hurt…" Maggie could feel her own voice starting to shake, and she looked at Glenn to finish, or at least say something. The group had already lost so many… _

_ Hershel and Beth both looked stricken, Carol was distraught, and Glenn didn't have the heart to tell them his fears. He didn't think Daryl had made it, there had been to much heavy fire, and he had been alone. But the look of sadness on their faces was too much, so he lied._

_ "You know he will probably show up soon anyway. He's a crazy hillbilly and he's not about to get caught up like that. He probably stopped to hunt for some squirrels or something." Glenn paused; debating on whether or not to divulge a secret he had been he'd been holding on to. _

_ "He's safe guys…he has to be. Merle…" He exhaled slowly, "His brother Merle? The one we lost back in Atlanta? He was there. Wanted to know where Daryl was. When I told Daryl, he got excited, he wanted to see him. Merle seemed like he had a pretty good relationship with that Governor guy, so he's probably just chilling out with his brother, drinking a beer or something."_

_ They took the news of Merle in shock, but nodded their heads anyway, hoping that it was true, but knowing that it wasn't._

It had been three days since that conversation, and Carol had avoided thinking about it with everything she had.

Daryl wasn't coming back. She knew it. She hated it.

Even with that realization on her mind, she couldn't help but watch the dirt road at the front gate, waiting for him to come running.

She had the keys on her belt loop, but it was a lost cause.

She kept looking, whispering, "Please, Please, Please" under her breath, but he never showed up.

She wanted it.

But she knew that she wouldn't get it. The Good Lord and the world he created had a knack for that. They would give you something to love, and then snatch it away without a second thought.

The group had lost Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Lori, and so many others.

She had lost Sophia.

And now she had lost Daryl, even though she made a promise to herself that she wouldn't lose him too.

She sobbed quietly, ignoring the shuffling of dead feet, vacant eyes, and hungry growls waiting just outside the fence.

In her head she kept repeating everything that she had ever wanted to tell him, every little thing that she had kept to herself. She was thinking about his awkward smile, his gentle laughter, and the blue of his eyes.

She remembered watching him over the winter.

He had changed so much.

He was still tough, still rock solid, but she had seen him open himself up. He wasn't as closed, wasn't as stoic. She had made note of the childlike nature interlaced within it all. The thought of his stubbornness, and the way his eyes would light up at the slightest praise.

It made her smile.

But then she whimpered again, because somewhere within it all she had come to another startling realization.

She loved him.

She didn't know when it happened, but he had melted her heart and wormed his way in without even trying.

She choked on her own sobs, leaning desperately on the inner fence, hoping to stop herself from falling over. She had taken the keys from Carl, and she pulled on them now, trying to distract herself with the clinking sounds they made, and running her fingers along the various blunt edges.

It hurt too much to love.

"Carol?" The voice behind her belonged to Rick, who was making his way to stand in front of her.

Carol straitened herself up, wiping away the tears before looking up into his face. He looked haggard.

"I left Judith with Maggie," He laughed quietly; "I forgot how much work it was, taking care of a little one." Rick was providing a distraction, which Carol quickly took.

"Yes, but luckily, we are all more than willing to look after her. She has all of us." Carol smiled, but on the inside her heart was busting. That little girl had already lost more family then she even knew she had.

"I'm sorry Carol." Rick's cracking voice dragged her from her thoughts.

"Sorry?" She inquired

"We all miss Daryl…but I know…I know how much he meant to you." Carol couldn't really tell what he was apologizing for. Was he sorry for her loss? Sorry that he hadn't brought him back?

She put a hand gently on his shoulder.

"He meant a lot to all of us Rick." She couldn't take the idea of pity falling on her anymore.

"I wanted-" Rick's newest words were cut off by a loud _pop, pop, pop _behind them.

Carol let out an audible squeal.

Walkers were making their way towards the road, where two men were men where running, firing off rounds faster then they could really aim.

Daryl and Merle were closing in on the fence.

Rick and Carol both took the pistols from their waists, picking off the Walkers that the brothers missed.

"Get the gate!" Rick hollered, running down the strip between the fences, dropping walkers as they came. The noise of the gun fire had drawn Carl and Glenn outside. They started shooting as well.

Carol fumbled with the keys for a second before dashing to the gate, pulling it out just enough to allow the brothers through.

She had barely got the fence closed before Rick and Glenn came down on the pair, pulling Merle away and holding him back.

Carol skittered backwards, half expecting Daryl to go off, swinging and cussing on behalf of his brother. He didn't, instead he dropped his gun, motioned for Merle to do the same.

The tension in the air was palpable, but Carol could tell that Daryl was too tired to really fight, and that Merle was trying to prove something to them, or at least his brother.

He dropped the gun in his hands, and stopped struggling.

"Rick…" Daryl's voice was ragged, "I know ya'll have problems, I know…but he's my brother. He saved my ass. I ain't gonna let you hurt him." His voice was rough, determined, but Carol glanced up, and his eyes weren't as steeled as she had expected.

He and Rick had picked up a way of talking through without words. The message passing from one pair of eyes to the other was clear.

"We aren't gonna hurt him. But we are going to have to talk." Glenn's face contorted angrily, but he didn't argue with Rick. Clearly, his friendship with Daryl won out over his hatred of Merle.

"Good." Daryl said gruffly, steeling his voice, and eyes now that he knew he and his brother were safe.

"Now head back up to the cell, get some food and water, and let somebody fix you up. You look rough." Rick's face held nothing but authority, but once again, a look passed between him and Daryl, expressing nothing but kinship.

Daryl walked up the hill, Carol keeping pace easily, unable to keep the grin off her face. He was back, he had made it. Her little patchwork family hadn't lost as many pieces as she had feared.

"What you grinnin' at?" he murmured, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her. His eyes held contentment, and though his words seemed rough, his voiced had rolled out playfully. She grinned even more, and he finally grinned back.

"Just happy to have you back is all." Is what she said out loud, but in her head it was more like,

'_I spent the last three days hoping and praying that I would get the chance to talk to you again, and to look into your eyes. I wanted nothing more then to see you come running through that fence, alive and safe.'_

But the thing about Daryl was, he knew enough about her to know that already. Words didn't exactly come easy to him, but he could pick out a million conversations with just the way she looked at him.

He reached out gently to touch her arm. His gaze met hers, and she could almost see the gears working in his head, she could tell his desire to say something, he just didn't know how.

"Yea, Me too." Was all he said, and that was really all she needed. She had learned to read his behavior over the winter as well.

He wasn't much for physical contact, but when she hugged him, he hugged back, because, as awkward as stuff like hugs were for him, he really didn't care. His arms fit perfectly around her, and there was just something so relieving about the weight of her arms around his neck.

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_Comments? I love them! Ideas? Prompts? I'll try to make it happen!_


	2. Solace

**Tumblr Prompt:Kateg713**

**I don't own The Walking Dead**

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He never thought there would be a moment in his life where he actively sought after the comfort of another human being. It just wasn't something he did. He didn't need people, he didn't really need emotion either.

All that stuff was for pussies.

But this time; This one time it felt as if his world was falling apart, and there just wasn't anything he could do but go to someone who he was sure would understand.

Rick was on watch, because Daryl had already done his rounds, but the sheriff didn't question him when he slipped from his perch to the ground.

He knew Carol would be awake. Even if Maggie had the baby tonight, that woman had a knack for living on next to no sleep at all. She would more than likely be sitting on the bunk, curled in on herself, staring at nothing.

There were no windows in this place.

He found her exactly as he expected to. She looked up when he padded his way into the cell, wearily at first, but then calm.

"Daryl?" Her voice was soft, but laced with concern. His expression wasn't as steeled as he would like. He knew she could see his emotions raging.

"I just..." he struggled for words for only a minute before he gave up, running a hand through is tasseled hair and watching the ground.

He felt the weight of her eyes on him, and he could feel it pulling him down. He looked up, straight into her eyes, opening her arms, she offered the comfort he needed.

A long time ago, he would have walked away, he wouldn't have allowed himself to collapse next to her. He wouldn't have allowed her to put her arms around him, or run her slim fingers through his hair, murmuring words of condolence into his ears. But now he did, because things were different. They were different. He couldn't make himself flinch from her kindness. He couldn't make himself not feel something for her.

"Do you wanna talk? Or do you just need company?" She asked gently,turning his face to look at hers. She could see the tears welling up, and he looked so broken. It was rare, but every know and then, Carol had been able to see a different side of Daryl's personality, the child inside him, vulnerable, needy, and suffering.

This was one of those times.

He adjusted their positions slightly, turning and resting his head on her shoulder, burying his face in the curvature of her neck. She held him tighter.

"I miss him Carol. I didn't think it would hurt this much...but damn it it does." His words were muffled but she still managed to catch them all.

This was the second time at the end of the world that he had lost his brother, except this time there was no getting him back. No miracles.

"I should know what this feels like, right? I've already lost him before...but this is different-" He choked back a sob and Carol struggled to find the words she needed to help him. One of the only times, ever, that she had the chance to be his rock, and she was already sinking.

"Daryl...I wish I could tell you it gets easier... I wish I could tell you that I can bring him back for you...I wish I could tell you that this is all just a horrid dream, but you know that that isn't how life works..." She stopped for a moment to recollect her thoughts, feeling his broken sobs against her neck, continuing to toy with his hair.

This wasn't right. The world had the worst way of doing things. Promising a return to something normal, something good and then ripping it away.

No one deserved that, Daryl didn't deserve it. He was such a kind heart, such a wonderful person, so capable of love and happiness, but the world kept pulling him down to his knees.

"I don't want you to tell me it'll be okay. I just...I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to handle this..." He mumbled against her neck. He was still sobbing and it tore her heart to pieces.

What could she say?

"I can't promise you anything Daryl...but as long as its in my power, I'm going to be here for you..." His arms tightened around her waist, and once again she could feel him mumbling against her neck,

"I'm counting on that."

Of course she would be there for him. So long as she could, so long as he would have her, she would be his place of solace in a world hell-bent on pain.

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_Like? Don't like?_


	3. Rain is a good thing

**Prompt by:13nsin**

**I don't own the Walking Dead. **

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The worst thing about living in Georgia had always been the climate. When it was cold, it was freezing, when it was hot, it was burning up, and when it rained, and even after it rained, you could choke on the humidity.

But Carol wasn't going to let the weather get her down.

All things considered, it had been a good day so far. Judith had said her first word, asking for her daddy the minute he stepped into the room. Carol had been a little jealous at first, having spent so much time with the little one, but it had quickly faded.

Rick's face at the sound of his daughters voice saying 'daddy', reaching out to him with her chubby little fists balled was one of the best sights she had seen in a long time.

Their lives were looking up, scraping together normalcy as best as they could.

Right now, she was pacing the fences with Daryl, keeping ground watch while Maggie and Glenn were up in the tower. She doubted they were doing their jobs, but she didn't really care.

They'd been clear for months now. Aside from the Walkers outside the gates, nothing had threatened their little patchwork family, and Carol was just giddy with joy.

She hummed under her breath a song that she couldn't remember the name of, and bounced a long in front of Daryl, movements somewhere between a hop and a skip.

She heard Daryl's snort of laughter behind her.

"Whats so funny?" She pouted playfully, turning around on her heel and finding his eyes on her.

"Nothin' But your actin like a rabbit. Hoppin' around like that." He rolled his eyes in mock irritation and she stuck out her tongue. He responded in kind.

"And whats so wrong with that?" she couldn't keep the giggle out of her voice, and she couldn't stop from noticing the amusement dancing in his blue eyes.

She was still immensely overjoyed by the fact that he trusted her.

Daryl couldn't stop himself from smirking at her. Her blue grey eyes were alight with joy, and he couldn't say that it bothered him to see her bouncing around like a kid on Christmas morning.

It was good that they could all find time for a little bit of happiness in the new world order.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with it, but your gonna end up fallin' in all this mud, you watch. " The rain that had rolled through last night had eased the sweltering heat a bit, but had left a ton of humidity in the air, and had turned the prison's red clay dirt roads into muddy slip and slides.

"Oh well." was all she said, and he could feel his cheeks rising in a smile when she turned back around and continued to skip ahead of him. Even with her back to him, he could see the blue of her eyes playing on the front of his consciousness.

He allowed himself the pleasure of letting his eyes follow her. He couldn't stop from grinning at the sight of her happiness. She had stopped bouncing, but was sort of dancing in tiny little circles to the sound of a song that only she could hear.

He shook his head. Why did she affect him so much?

Daryl ducked his head when she turned back around, feeling heat rise through his neck and cheeks. That was damn humiliating. So what if she saw him watching her? It shouldn't matter. But it did.

"Its gonna rain again soon." she said, just as a clap of thunder sounded in the sky. She was right, the clouds were moving in, and the wind was picking up in intensity. It wasn't going to rain, it was going to storm.

"Well come on, we gotta finish our rounds before it rolls all the way in." He muttered, catching up with her, but avoiding her eyes, hoping for the blush to go away.

Carol didn't give the unreturned eye contact a second thought. She could see the dark red patches under his eyes and she knew he had a reason.

As they neared the curve in the fence, they both slowed up, watching their feet intently. This is where the worst of the mud was, and neither if them wanted to fall.

She stayed close to the inner fence in case she needed it to keep her from falling, and she was glad she did. She missed a step, and was seconds away from falling into the wet soil.

She made a small yelping sound, and managed to use the fence as an anchor. Daryl looked up, eyes going from unmarked concern to childish indulgence in less than three seconds flat.

"I told you so" Carol could feel the heat rising to her own cheeks when he said it. She peaked over to where he was standing because she could hear him laughing. She laughed with him, righting herself, and carefully moving away from the fence.

"No you didn't" She said, winking.

"Did too!" He responded playfully, sticking out his tongue and taking a step forward. He chose to lift the one foot that was anchoring him to the ground, so as he stepped forward, he slipped and he was the one that ended up on the ground.

His face was blood red and he plopped back onto the ground in humiliation. He could hear her laughter rocketing through the air.

"Well aren't you off your game today!" She was beyond laughing now, doubled over, just heaving air from her lungs, laughing to hard to actually laugh.

He blushed even more.

"Oh Hush" She was less then two feet away from him, so when he flung a hand full of mud at her, he didn't miss. When the cold soil came in contact with her skin, she squealed, jumping backwards, and ending up in a muddy mess on the ground, right next to him.

She was blushing, and he was blushing, so when they looked at each other from the ground, there was only a small moment of awkward silence before laughter filled the air on both sides.

They both just fell from their sitting positions into the mud, convulsing and rolling with laughter. No matter the fact that they were both covered almost entirely in mud, but they were just having fun. It had been a long time since either of them had done something like that.

Just as the laughing fits would begin to falter off, they would look at each other again, and it would start over.

Carol was pleased with the situation, despite the fact that red clay stained skin and clothes and everything else. She couldn't stop laughing, because it was funny, and because Daryl was laughing too. He was actually laughing. Not just snorting or chuckling under his breath. This was real happiness.

The thunder was still rolling and the wind had increased, and Carol could even see lightning flashing not to far away, but she couldn't make herself get up, and it seemed like Daryl couldn't either.

They were both propped up on their elbows in the mud, staring at each other, laughter fading, grins still dominating their features, faces only inches apart. Daryl couldn't stop his eyes from flickering from her lips and then to her eyes. He wanted to kiss her then, and he wanted her to kiss him back, but he didn't.

He got to his feet, offering her a hand up, and instinctively putting a hand against her hip to steady her.

He was glad that the mud on his face was to thick to blush through.

Then the rain started. It didn't come down in sprinkles and gradually harden though, the minute it started raining, it started pouring.

The torrential downfall was slowly washing the mud from their skin, but making the state of their clothes even worse.

He and Carol still stood in the center of the giant puddle, not ready to move yet;Their chests were still heaving from laughing so hard. She held her hands out to the downpour and allowed the mud to wash from her hands, and then she lifted her face to the sky, and the mud slowly cleared.

Daryl wasn't quick enough to avert his eyes when she looked back at him, so instead their eyes met again. The rain was making a quick effort to remove the mud from his face, but Carol decided to help him out anyway.

She lifted a hand to his face and cupped his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away some of the mud.

His vision was still flickering between her lips and her eyes, wondering what it would be like to kiss her, and when Daryl looked into her eyes again, he could see that she was wondering the same thing.

Carol kissed him first. It wasn't unexpected, but he stiffened at the contact for only a moment before remembering who it was making the contact in the first place.

On instinct, he put his arms around her waist, resting his hands on the small of her back, pulling her closer. She cradled his face in her hands gently, guiding him carefully.

She had started it, but she was also the one to pull away first, feeling his tension underneath her hands.

The rain continued to pour, and for a while, all they could do was stand there, breathless and blushing.

Eventually the chill of the rain became to much, and Carol reached for his hand, and he willingly intertwined his fingers in hers as they walked back to the prison.

Sometimes the weather was awful, but in some cases, rain can be a very good thing.

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**What do ya think?**


	4. Scars Part One

**This was an anon request that was given about a week ago. ANON, tell me who you are please!  
This is really only a rough draft, and I want opinions on it because I like the subject matter, but the actual story could be better. Part two is Carol's scars, because she has them, I'm sure. **

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

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She'd always known that he had scars. She'd been able to see them from the minute she first laid eyes on him, all the way back in Atlanta; He had scars from working, scars from fighting, and scars from just being alive. They always showed on his arms, his neck and his face. It was startling, but for some reason, those scars had drawn her to him, rather then scare her away.

It wasn't until much later that she realized that he had scars on his heart as well. His voice held nothing but confidence when he spoke to her, his face held nothing but determination, but his eyes betrayed his fears.

She had quickly realized that they were kindred spirits, whether he knew it or not.

She traced a few of his scars now, her fingers running the length of his arm, across his shoulder blade, and to the middle of his back, where he would soon have another one to add to his constantly growing collection.

"I know you won't do it, but tell me if it gets to hurtin to much." Carol murmured, carefully cleaning off the gash on his back, and beginning to stitch it up.

"You wanna tell me how you did this?" She asked quietly, wanting to divert his attention from the blunt edge of the needle piercing his skin. He only grunted, and let out a hiss. There was no way to numb the sensation.

"No. I just had a little screw up when I was out huntin. Thats all." He muttered. He was grumpy, but she really couldn't blame him. He was probably really tired, pained, and irritated with Hershel's insistence that she be the one to patch him up.

Carol didn't let that bother her anymore. She knew what his comfort level was, and having anyone, especially her, near his scars bothered him. She didn't push it.

She clucked her tongue in mock disapproval and left it at that. No need to push it any further.

It didn't take to long to get him stitched up, he only needed ten anyway, but as she bandaged it with the gauze from the last supply run, her eyes kept coming up short of her hands and she would stop, lost in thought at the sight of a particularly gruesome scar. She would snap out of it in a few seconds and move on, only to be caught off guard by another one that was even worse.

The sight of his marred back brought out some kind of emotion in her that she couldn't really identify. Anger? Sadness? Empathy? Curiosity?

Whatever it was must have stuck out in her voice when she told him he was good to go, because when he turned to look at her, his blue eyes were set on hers, unfathomable emotion sifting through them.

"Distractin, ain't they?" His accent got thicker when he tried to hide his emotion.

She couldn't look in his eyes when she responded, so she turned her back, grabbing his tshirt from the other table before she spoke.

"Not really, no." She lied, knowing that he knew they were. She turned around to give him the shirt, only to find his eyes gazed off into nothingness, his features contorting thoughtfully.

"Between Merle, and my Pa, and Me, I don't really know who put more of them there..." She had expected his voice to be gruff, but instead it was soft, almost a whisper.

He had done this before, once or twice, talking to her without really talking to her. That was the only way he could talk about what hurt, the past and the people in it. He'd still get angry, and lash out sometimes, but these little spells were different. There was something just a little bit deeper to them.

He knew she was there listening, but it was so much easier to talk when he wasn't looking at her, and when he couldn't see all the emotion in her eyes.

She settled on the table next to him, laying his shirt gently in his lap, and looking for him to continue, but he didn't know how to, or even if he wanted to.

She placed her hand gently on his and murmured quietly,

"I'm not asking." and by saying that, she was telling him that he didn't have to keep talking, not unless he wanted to.

"Spent my life fighting and raising hell and those scars are all I got to show for it." He finally muttered, this time looking into her eyes,

"I used to count them, growing up. Like I was collecting them, and one day I would just be able to trade them for somethin I wanted more. But I gave up, because they weren't ever goin away." He paused, and followed her movements. Her hand had moved to trace the contours of his shoulder, and his arm. Her fingers trailed gently across the harsh red and white marks.

He would have flinched away, but when he caught her eye, he found that they held no judgment, only concern.

"A damn nasty sight I guess."me murmured, stiffening when her hand found a scar on his neck. She moved her hands.

"umhum." she agreed, but she didn't look disgusted, as he had always expected, not just of her, but of anyone.

"The scars just show what you've been through in your life;That makes it even easier to realize how strong you really are." she murmured quietly, taking his hand again.

"Thats how you see it?" He asked, averting his eyes when she tried to catch his. He had started the conversation, but he just felt to trapped to continue, She seemed to sense that.

"You can spend your whole life being ashamed of those scars, and trying to hide them, but they won't go away. You just have to stop being ashamed of whatever mistake led you to that scar. When you do that, it gets a lot easier."

She hopped from the table, squeezed his hand, and made her way to the door.

"And Daryl?" She had stopped at the door, only craning her neck around to look him in the eye,

"I don't think the scars are all that ugly either."

She left before he could respond.

Daryl decided then that that woman was going to take every opportunity she could to change the way he felt about himself. He couldn't really say it bothered him either. He liked knowing that she cared about him, and wanted him around.

It was a good feeling knowing that someone could care about him, scars and all.

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_Thoughts?_


	5. Just Kiss Already!

** Long over do prompt response for Celestineatma Tumblr! (At least two more chapter updates today!)**

**I don't own the Walking Dead. **

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They'd come across an abandoned lot a couple of months after leaving the farm, and although everyone in the group was becoming a good shot, Rick figured that it was a good idea for them all to stop and get a little practice in.

They pulled the cars in and made the gate as secure as it could be. Walkers would be attracted by the noise, but having the cars close and the guns out should make things easier.

They found a bunch of bottles, foam pieces, cardboard, and anything else that could be aimed at and set it up at various angles across the field, and then they split up as they had all winter. Carl and Beth shot together, Hershel, Glenn, Maggie and T-Dog took turns helping each other out, but all of them were pretty good shots on their own. Lori shifted between groups, while Rick paced around, overseeing everything.

Daryl, for whatever reason, had taken it upon himself to teach Carol. She wasn't a bad shot, and had come into it pretty well. The only thing that she had to work on was her nerves. She would get nervous, frustrated, or out of sorts in some way, and she would start slipping up. It was a self confidence thing, and there was really nothing they could do about it. It was up to Carol to trust herself with the gun, or any weapon. When that happened, Rick figured that she would be pretty self sufficient.

What really surprised him was the fact that Daryl was actually a pretty good teacher. The first few times they had practiced, he had always kept an eye on them, waiting for Daryl to get frustrated or pissed off, but he hadn't. He was patient, and even now, Rick could see him adjusting her hands on the rifle, and guiding her shoulder to the correct position with his hands. Carol would hit her target and her face would light up with self satisfaction, eager to try again, and when she turned around, Daryl would look at her with a look of content on his face, and she would laugh and he would laugh, and they both looked younger and happier then he remembered seeing them since he met them.

He shook his head and he felt a small grin on his face. When he walked past Hershel, the old man stopped him.

"Whats got you grinnin like that?" He asked, following Rick's gaze down the makeshift firing range. When Hershel's eyes landed on the pair down the lane, he chuckled.

"They sure are somethin aren't they? I'm pretty sure Daryl would skin any one of us alive if we touched him like that." And Hershel was right, because at this very moment, Carol had rested a hand against Daryl's arm, and was grinning at him like he was the sun or something.

"Or looked at him like that, for that matter." Rick said, and the pair of men chuckled again. Daryl didn't respond well to touch, or emotion from other people, so the group avoided it for the most part, but they had found out-to their surprise-that Carol was a little more gutsy then them all when the redneck was involved. She wasn't intimidated by him.

It seemed to Hershel, that as much as he tried to deny it, Daryl actually enjoyed the attention. He enjoyed the small touches, bright smiles, and all of Carol's little gestures, and for some reason it seemed like she was the only person in the world he would really accept those things from.

He voiced his thoughts aloud.

"Well, they're kindred spirits. Both been hurt by people that were supposed to care about them, both lost the only ones they really had left. Maybe its just because Daryl feels like she understands, and Carol understands enough to know what she can and can't get away with." Rick didn't really know when he had put so much thought into the budding relationship of his new friend and the kind hearted older woman, but Hershel was nodding along with his words. Clearly he wasn't the only one that had noticed their interactions.

From down range, they heard another rifle shot, and then a small peal of laughter from Carol. Daryl took the gun from her hands and she all but bounced up and down beside him, clearly pleased with the shot she had made. Daryl looked amused, and almost prideful. When he spoke to her, though Rick couldn't hear the words, Carol's faced changed. She looked perplexed for a moment, and then her grin broadened. Daryl must have said something in compliment of her shooting, he figured.

Over the last few months, he had noticed that neither Carol nor Daryl looked for compliments, or expected them, and both were caught off guard when they were given.

"What are you guys talking about?" Glenn asked, idling up beside them, with an arm around Maggie. They had traded the rifles with Beth and Carl, who were talking to T-Dog and Lori animatedly, challenging them to a shoot off again, probably.

Rick only chuckled in response, but Hershel said, "Carol and Daryl" and both Glenn and Maggie laughed along with Rick.

"They should just kiss already and get it over with." Glenn said matter-o-factly, turning his eyes to look at the pair in question. The rifle had been cast aside, and Daryl now had his crossbow. He was pointing to various targets on their side of the range, and loading an arrow. Carol looked skeptical, with one eyebrow raised, but with a small smile on her face. Daryl aimed the crossbow at a next to impossible angle and shot.  
It took Glenn a minute to figure out that he was showing off, a childlike eagerness radiating from his features. When he hit his target, he looked at Carol expectantly, and when she said something on response, he looked pleased.  
Glenn had noticed that about him a while back, without realizing it, Daryl would act almost like a child in her presence, feeding off of her peaceful aura and glowing under her praise.

Maggie snorted in response to his words, dragging him out of his mental assessment.

"Yea, that's what we think should happen, but it won't, not yet anyway. Daryl's awkward. And Carol knows him to well to push those boundaries." It seemed as if everyone had put a lot of thought into the relationship of these two people.

"It will happen though, in fact, I'm willing to bet on it." He laughed, jokingly, but someone had heard, and was taking it seriously.

"Betting on what?" T-Dog asked, walking over with a rifle slung over his back, Lori followed. Beth and Carl were to distracted by their shooting.

"Nothing, I was just messing around." Glenn said. A secret betting pool would be the last thing they needed, of Daryl found that, he would probably go berserk.

"Nahh, Its been a long time since I bet on anything, just tell me." He insisted, and Glenn looked kind of embarrassed, so Maggie spoke up for him.

"Willing to bet on how long it'll take for Daryl and Carol to stop being awkward teases and just kiss, or hook up or something." T-Dog laughed, a huge, boisterous laugh, and Lori sniggered beside him, an expression on her face saying 'I know something you don't'

"Well, based off the eyes she's playing at him right now, not to long." T-Dog was looking over at the pair, and as Daryl shot, Carol looked at him with her huge blue eyes. Her faced danced between adoration, joy, and content. When Daryl gave the gun back, he looked at her much the same way, just with less of a smile, and that was only because Daryl Dixon didn't smile.

"And he's looking at her the same way, so that's even less time." T laughed.

"And how much time is that, you reckon?" Rick had taken a small book out of his back pocket, and a half busted pencil.

"Are you actually putting bets on this?" Hershel asked, looking astonished, but amused. A secret betting pool would be something of interest, but he doubted that using Carol and Daryl was the best thing to do. It seemed almost disrespectful to their blossoming relationship, whatever that relationship was.

"Yes, is that a problem?" Rick asked the older mans opinion even while writing down names in his little book.

"No. I'm not gonna bet on it, but I'm not gonna deny that their sweet on each other, there's just no way you can do that. Rick shrugged, and Hershel went back to shooting, occasionally looking back over at Carol and Daryl.

He didn't know much about their lives or relationships before they showed up on his farm, but Hershel regretted the fact that such a budding companionship had found its seeds in Carol losing her little girl. Maybe it was a good thing though, watching them now, it seemed as if they needed each other.

If what Rick had said about their pasts was true, Hershel figured that only damaged people had the right wisdom to fix other damaged people. It was tragic, but beautiful.

Behind him, betting was still going on.

"Two weeks, are you serious? Thats not even close." Maggie huffed off T-Dogs bet. She had put a lot of thought into Carol and Daryl, and she continued to. She liked Carol, and she had a lot of respect for Daryl. She doubted that many of them had put as much thought into this as she had. For their relationship to progress to a romantic one, Daryl would have to stop being so opposed to touch. Sure, he accepted Carol's, and that was great, but he had to be comfortable enough to be willing to give it back, which he wasn't.

"It'll be a couple of months for sure. I mean, they are both super shy, reserved people. Its not gonna happen just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis.

"A couple of months for what though? Kissing her? No way." T-Dog laughed.

"Yes, way." T-Dog looked at her in a quizzical way, cocking an eyebrow.

Rick was writing all of this down, and adding in his own thoughts when Lori spoke up,

"have any of you stopped to consider that maybe they already have kissed, or hooked up, or whatever you're even betting on?" She grinned wickedly, watching their expressions change. She knew that they hadn't. She had talked to Carol not to long ago about it, after going to the woman about her problems with Rick. Carol had denied any kind of intimate relationship, or any relationship short of a friendship, but she hadn't denied that she wanted it. L just wanted to throw that in their to see how they responded.

T-Dog laughed and let out a long, low whistle, but Maggie, Glenn, and Rick looked skeptical.

"I'm not saying they have, I was just wondering." She grinned again, and left the betting pool, choosing to stand beside Hershel, while even Carl and Beth decided to put their two-cents in.

She didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but Lori was glad that her friend had someone to hold onto. Looking at her now, with a soft smile on her face, and her eyes lit up with happiness, Lori remembered when she first met Carol. She had been timid, shy, quiet, and you could hardly ever pull a real smile or laugh from her. Things were different now, and Lori knew that, no matter how upset she was about her daughter, Carol's faith and attitude were changing, and it had a lot to do with Daryl's presence in her life.

Daryl had changed just as much as Carol had. He wasn't as hard anymore. He was still just as tough as he was the day she had met him and his brother, but she had come to see that he was much kinder, and much more thoughtful then she had ever imagined, and it was mostly because of Carol that they all realized that.

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**Celestineatma asked a while ago for me to write a fic about the others view on the Caryl relationship. I killed a few birds with one stone, the betting pool they have set up**** personal headcannon ,****and Daryl teaching Carol to shoot.**

**What do you all think?**


	6. It's Cold

**I don't know how this turned out, but I hope you enjoy it!**

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

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Georgia winters were almost always unpredictable. It could be warm one day, pleasent, with only a slight chill to the air, but as you lay down to go to sleep, the temperture could drop 20 degrees and your left freezing your ass off. This was one of those nights. The air was frigid, and even in the dark of the night, Daryl could see his breath creeping through the air in front of him. He stood watch on the outer perimeter of the building, T-Dog paced the other side. They were to close to the highway to risk having only one guard.

They had settled in some kind of old supply warehouse, and even with all the room they had to stretch out, it was just to cold. They had all bunched up in a cluster, not sleeping together, not on top of one another, but close enough for them to feel the body heat of the others around them.

Daryl hoped that the rising sun would bring a reprise from the cold, but sunrise was hours away. It hadn't been very long since the sun had set in the first place, and he hadn't been on watch all that long.

The only thing that was predictable about the winter was how long it would last. He knew that, soon, the bitter cold would ease itself off and the temperature would change again. He knew that it wouldn't be to long in reality, but in their minds, and to their bodies, it would feel like forever. He had been out in this weather before, either lost, or out willingly, hunting, so he knew what to expect, but even with prior knowledge, it was beginning to be to much.

He settled himself on a stairwell with a few of the highway. He could feel the cold seeping in and rubbed his fists against his legs to try to combat it, but it was no good. He was freezing, and he could feel his eyes getting heavy but he shook his head. It was his watch, no time for sleep. But he felt himself nodding off again, the only thing that woke him up was the sound of T-Dog's voice in his ear.

"Daryl, Go get some sleep man. Wake up Rick or somebody!" His voice was hushed, but loud enough to jolt him awake.

"Nahh Im good." He said in response, even as his voice slurred from sleep deprivation. He didn't need sleep, he was okay, but he still felt it tugging at his eyelids and he knew that he should take T-Dog's advice, but he didn't want to.

"Dude, just go. You've pulled double watches two nights in a row." T insisted, and Daryl huffed heavily to hide his relief at the other mans persistance. He didn't want to sleep, he couldn't sleep, but he knew that, eventually, he was going to have to. He headed towards the huddle, not particularly excited about being bunched together with any of them, he grabbed his blanket from the bag on the floor and his eyes began to look over the huddle. He nudged Rick to get up, and the man grumbled but got up and took his gun.

Sleep was dragging at his eyelids, but he couldn't make himself settle down. His eyes scanned the huddle again, and he quickly found who he was looking for, right where he had expected her to be. Carol was curled up with her back to the wall, a blanket wrapped around her small form, but it did little to ease the shivering, he noted. She wasn't as bunched up as the others, and he hadn't expected her to be. When it came down to situations like this, she always isolated herself, not to avoid human contact, which was his reason, but because, as she had explained to him when he asked, she had severe claustrophobia.

It wasn't really confined spaces, but being surrounded by to many human beings at once made her nervous. She trusted this bunch with her life, but even that wasn't enough to help her get over it. He figured that if he was going to have to sleep, he was going to settle himself next to her. She had found a nice little spot, and he was almost glad to see that there was room for him. Aside from that, Daryl had the strangest desire to be beside her, if only to ward of the trembling. It reminded him to much of the way she shivered when she cried, and he didn't like it.

When he settled on the ground beside her, he had to suppress a groan. He had thought the trembling was bad before, but close up, it was just pitiful. She was cold natured as it was, and a tiny little thing to boot, so she was shaking like a leaf. He wanted to wake her up and pull her closer to him, just to get her warmed up. He knew that she would wake up tomorrow pale as a ghost and exhausted, but she wouldn't complain, but he didn't want that. He knew what he wanted, but he also knew just how awkward that could be.

He looked at her again, taking in the sight of the trembling, and how forlorn she looked, curled around herself that he couldn't make himself care about how awkward it was.

"Hey." He nudged her gently, waiting for her to look up at him, and wipe the sleep from her eyes. It was adorable—-no, thinking like that would only make it more awkward.

"Come 'ere. You're freezing to death." He held open the end of the blanket that wasn't wrapped around his shoulders as invitation. He almost squirmed under her gaze just then.

She had a way of reading him, and he knew she was processing his actions in her head. Carol moved closer as he had asked, and in a moment, she was curled up beside him, and his and her blankets were wrapped around them both. She could feel his tension and how awkward he felt being so close to her, but in his eyes, she could see his desire to help.

She often wondered if it hurt him to constantly play mental tug of war like that.

He rubbed hard circles against her arm, and she could feel the heat and blood circulation righting itself. She reached across his chest and put one hand on his arm, pulling the blankets to a cacoon. She felt him tense slightly, and she knew that he was perturbed by her closeness. She also knew that this closeness was the best way for either of them to stay warm.

"Thank You Daryl." She murmured quietly, instinctively snuggling closer to him. She was surprised when he didn't flinch away, but actually pulled her closer.

He was going crazy, he was absolutely sure of it. Why else would he have let her snuggle up against him like that? What else would make him let her wrap them up together in those blankets? Why else would it seem so natural for her to be beside him? How else could he explain the way she fit perfectly into the crook of his arm?

He wasn't going crazy. That was just plain stupid. There wasn't anything crazy about it. She was cold, he was cold, and they were friends. The end. They needed to stay warm, and with her laying beside him, her head resting on his shoulder, he couldn't remember exactly why he had thought it would be weird, he could only feel warm.

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**I was trying to go for awkward/fluffy but I'm not so good at awkward. Hope you enjoy though! **


	7. Mistletoe

**Tumblr Christmas post for YouSuchCock. :)  
I don't own the Walking Dead.**

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The mistletoe had been Carl's idea. He'd found a patch growing on the eastern fence, just as the snow had started to fall over the prison. He was well over fourteen now, so he figured that it was about time Beth took him seriously.

He doubted that she would, but that's why the mistletoe was a backup plan. They couldn't deny human tradition after all.

Most everyone avoided it, no one wanted to be caught underneath it. Almost everyone.

Carol was coming back from her watch on the guard tower, and she knew that in a moment, Axel would be hot on her heels. There were at least four strands of mistletoe between the outside and her cell, and he was trying his hardest to get her underneath it. He irritated her, but he had not tried anything much to serious, so she really did not worry.

She skirted around the edge of the cells and through one of the doors.

"Your sneakin' around like a rabbit or somethin'. Whats got ya spooked?" The familiar sound of Daryl's voice wafted down from his perch, and in minutes he was down on the ground, walking towards her.

"Nothin," She laughed, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "Just avoidin' Axel." She grinned, to let him know that she wasn't actually worried, but Daryl still looked irritated.

"He still houndin' you?" The man's natural instinct to protect her was nothing short of flattering, but she hoped it didn't wind up causing trouble.

"Nahh, Carl's mistletoe gig's kinda makin' it hard to get rid of him though." She winked, and he snorted.

"Kids tryin' his damnedest to get a holt' of Beth, ain't he?" He shook his head, an amused expression on his face. Carol nodded and tried to avoid making the comment she wanted too. She hadn't realized it until he made the comment, but the pair of them were standing under a rather impressive strand of mistletoe.

Her eyes wandered up to it, and his followed. He let out a nervous chuckle, but didn't walk away. His eyes followed her movements nervously, but they glittered with a kind of longing she couldn't quite describe.

She put a hand on his arm, gently trailing her fingers up to his neck, and into his hair. He stood there, stiff for a moment, his fingers twitching as if he was unsure of what he should do.

Daryl wanted to kiss her, but he didn't know exactly how to go about it. Glenn had said something to him a while ago, about going after her before she got tired of waiting, but it was just so damn hard.

She smiled at him, and he could swear that she knew what he was thinking. She used her free hand to guide his arm around her waist, and propped herself up on her toes to kiss him.

He was stiff, nervous, and she could swear that she felt his arm trembling around her, but her lips touched his for a moment, and she smiled against them. She used her own lips to guide his open, and they were locked together for a moment.

With as much as he cringed away from physical contact, she was almost surprised at how well he kissed. He pulled her closer .

When they pulled apart, they were breathless.

She kept her hand in his hair, and he didn't move his arm from her waist.

"Maybe the kid had the right idea."His voice was shaky, and she laughed quietly.

"Yea, maybe he did."

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_What do you think?_


	8. Missed You

**This was a Christmas Drabble request by Asamcedesfan! Hope you guys enjoy!**

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

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Rick had opened the fence three days after Daryl had been left behind, and the man had walked in like nothing had happened. He had his crossbow slung over his shoulder, and the familiar look of steel in his eyes. His brother trailed after him, unsure of the welcome he would get, but still looking as cocky as ever. His appearance, and Rick's directions to the contrary were the only things that kept her from running to him, and throwing her arms around him. She wanted to see him, and not just from the distance she was at.

He had found her, and they had been together for maybe thirty minutes before he had left. One day passed, and Rick came back, Daryl hadn't. Three more days, and here he was, but still just out of reach.

She had lost other things in her life, the people she loved. It was a constant threat, always, but the idea of losing him so soon after she had actually connected with him hurt more then she had expected.

The hours that passed were spent on edge. Everyone had an opinion on Merle, and no one was willing to wait to get it out. Shouts could be heard throughout the entirety of C block. Of all the things that could have bothered her at that moment, it was the noise. Shouting, and the pounding of fists on a table made her nervous, and despite her best efforts, they probably always would.

Daryl had been pretty banged up, and Rick had demanded he go get some sleep after Hershel fixed him up. He'd been pretty mad about it, but he didn't argue, which had come as a surprise. He must have been really tired, and must have had a lot of trust in Rick to do what was best for his brother.

Carol crept up the stairs to his perch carefully. If he was already asleep, she would leave, if not she had a bottle of water and a bowl for him. He wasn't asleep, his eyes followed her from the mattress on the floor. He laid on his back, his knees drawn up, and one lazy arm rested across his forehead.

She smiled at him and offered the bowl, which he gratefully accepted. He sat up and patted the mattress next to him in invitation. Her smile broadened and she sat down beside him, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. Neither of them would speak, she was sure, but she was relieved that he still wanted her company.

But something was gnawing at her, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something would go amiss, even as they sat side by side, as they had for months now.

"What are you going to do if Rick says he can't stay?" She asked quietly, wanting to look him in the eye, but knowing that, if she did, the emotion welling up inside her would spill over. He wanted his brother, she knew that. She knew that he had missed him, and having him back now was a great thing for him. But she also knew about his brother's temper, and she worried about how he would act now that he was back, and what would happen if Rick ended up pulling them apart again.

"I don't know. It won't be that easy, just up and decidin'." He huffed quietly, and she knew that he had put a lot of thought into this. She could hear the emotion in his voice, but when she looked up, he had turned his face away.

"You would leave if he asked you too though, wouldn't you?" Carol hoped that he couldn't hear the crack in her voice.

_can't lose you too. Can't lose you too._

She had said those words, what felt like years ago. She'd lost her family, she was still losing her friends, the threat of it was hanging over her head everyday. She'd lost her daughter, and if she was being honest, for a long time she had lost herself too. He'd been there through that, with her, and he had helped pull her out of it, whether he knew it or not.

"I don't know…I got a lot goin' on here." He peeked up at her, furtively at first, but for once, he didn't look away when she caught his eyes.

"We'd all miss you." _I'd miss you. _Is what she didn't say.

"Yea…" He huffed, unsure of just how to respond.

"Plus, we need you around." _I need you around. _She bit back her words.

The shouts from the other room were escalating, and Merle's argument was going nowhere, fast. Carol hoped Rick knew what he was doing. She had learned to trust his judgment, but this was something she just couldn't sit back and let him run with. Merle was dangerous, but he looked like he'd cleaned up pretty good. And Rick knew he needed Daryl. They all needed Daryl. Rick would make the right decision.

Daryl huffed beside her, "Yea, that's the only reason any of ya'll are fightin for me to stay, its cause you'd all starve to death without me." His voice was gritty, and his accent got thicker as he tried to push back his emotions. He was trying to rationalize it. He felt as if it would come down to him leaving, and he was trying to talk himself into it, and tell himself what he needed to in order to make it easier, but when she looked at him, he just looked defeated, vulnerable even.

"You know that's not true." She murmured quietly. And he did know. He knew that they all cared about him, and that they wanted him around. She couldn't deny that they would have all starved without him, but that wasn't why they wanted him around, or why they needed him around. They were family.

"I know." He sighed beside her. Months ago, his attempt at rationalizing the situation would have worked, but now it wasn't. He could try to deny it, but he wanted them around too.

She could see the gears grinding in his head, and he was working to push away the vulnerability that was threatening to overwhelm him. He would get angry for a minute, but he would relax. She'd seen him do it to many times to count.

"But damn it Carol! What do you expect? He's my brother! I can't just let him go again! He was my brother before any of ya'll were in my life!" He threw his hand up and into his hair. He was seething, grinding his teeth together. The gears continued to work in his head, but he wasn't quite ready to relax.

She put a hand on his arm and reached up carefully pulled the other out of his hair. He let her hold his hand, and didn't flinch when she touched his face. They had come so far…she couldn't let him pull away now.

"I know that. Rick knows that. And he knows the decision to make that will be best for us all." She fought to keep her voice as even as possible, as calm as possible. His arm was still rigid under her hands, but she could see his eyes relaxing. He took a deep breath, and mumbled an apology under his breath.

"Its gonna work out Daryl. I know it will." she squeezed his hand gently, and he took her hands in his, and they just sat there for a minute. When he laid his head against her shoulder, she knew that things were almost back to normal. He was back, and she wasn't to worried about losing him anymore. She took a moment to revel in the fact that he trusted her with this side of him. She smiled, and wondered how far she could push him to talk, now that his emotions were at the forefront.

"I missed you, by the way. What happened to stay safe?" She murmured, brushing his hair from his face. He huffed, and for a minute she expected him to pull away, and for them to float into an awkward silence, but he didn't. He was so unpredictable sometimes. She could never really predict what words would make him uncomfortable. It wasn't her intention to try, but it would be a lot easier to avoid the silence if she knew what was to far.

"That was for you. Lord knows I didn't need you runnin' off and disappearin' on me again." He huffed, and she could feel his thumb running circles on the palm of her hand.

Maggie had spoken to her when she got back, after the shock of seeing her alive subsided, how Daryl had responded to 'losing her.' She had been shocked, but looking at him now, she didn't know why.

Maybe it wasn't just her that had grown so impossibly attached to him.

"I didn't plan on it. Caused some trouble for you, didn't I?" She teased, but humor wasn't really her objective. He sat up straight, and looked right into her eyes. Their fingers were still interlocked, and his hand tensed in hers.

He didn't know how to respond. Had she caused problems? No. But had it messed with him,The idea of losing her? Yes, it had. Looking in her eyes right then, he wondered if that turmoil was what she was feeling, with the prospect of him leaving hanging over their heads. He didn't want to admit it, but he wanted her to feel that. He wanted her to to miss him, to want him around, just like he had when she was gone. He wanted to know that she really cared about him, that she wouldn't just move on if he did leave.

But he couldn't voice any of that. He couldn't let her know that that was what he was feeling. He wasn't going to fall apart. He still had time with her. There was no need for any kind of awkward confessions now. The shouts from the other room had subsided and he knew in his gut that he wasn't going anywhere.

He had to say something though, didn't he? She had admitted that she missed him, and he knew that she cared…

"Nahh. Not problems…just…" He didn't know how to tell her that he had been sad, he didn't know how to tell her that he had been angry, at her for disappearing and at himself for not being there when she had to run.

She freed one of her hands from his grip, and framed his face with it. Her thumb stroked his brow.

With all the emotion floating through him, his old instinct to flinch had come back up, and she made a move to pull away, fearing that she had upset him. He caught her hand, and held it back to his face, reminded, not for the first time, just how small she was. He sighed, and all he could say was,

"I missed you. I really did." He finally huffed out, looking away from her eyes, even as she drew their faces closer.

"Daryl." She said his name with so much gentleness in her voice he was surprised.

"Daryl, look at me." He looked up, and his eyes were so filled with emotion. He was nervous, he was relieved, and he was vulnerable.

In return, her eyes were peaceful. They stared at each other for a moment, entirely caught up in the emotions passing between the two of them. Daryl was bad with words, but he was thankful that he didn't really need them for Carol to understand what he was saying.

To her, his eyes said it all.

She moved her hands to cup his face. He didn't flinch, he held her gaze, but his body stiffened and his hands clenched into fists beside him.

She touched her lips to his, hardly even a kiss, but enough for him to know what she meant. She pulled away for a second so he could decide if this was what he wanted.

He went back in to kiss her, and his hands sat on her waist. He was nervous, but Carol smiled under his lips. He was careful, and unsure of his movements, but she enjoyed it all the same.

It was over to quickly, put Carol didn't want to push him to far, not yet anyway. She moved her hands from his face, and pulled him into a tight hug. To her surprise, he hugged her back.

"I missed you, and you missed me, but we're both back for right now, so lets just be happy while we can, okay?" She murmured into his ear. She could feel his ragged breath against her neck.

"Okay."

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_End. :) It was supposed to be their first kiss, and I guess it was, but I just had to draw that out a little bit. Hope you enjoyed!_


	9. Stars

**So...I was asked for random Caryl and this is what popped into my head.**

**PS:I imagine this takes place only about a month after leaving the farm. They are still figuring each other out.**

**I don't own the Walking Dead**

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The night was almost entirely silent. The only noise came from the sound of her breathing companions, and the shift change being made on the other side of camp.

Carol couldn't say that she really minded the silence. On most days, it was so rare that she reveled in it, but on nights like this, it was strangely eerie. It seemed as if the noise would be the only way to escape the voice in her head, and she felt as if she needed that escape.

She was laying on her back staring up at the stars when Daryl plopped down beside her. His arm brushed hers for a moment, and she could feel heat radiating from his body. He still had a fever, despite the Tylenol they had found earlier that day. They didn't have enough medicine for him to take anymore, so he was just going to have to let it play through.

Hershel had assured them that Daryl's fever wasn't strong enough to make the virus set in, and it was likely just the effects of a cold, but Carol still worried.

"Hey Carol, you awake?" His hushed whisper found her ears and she turned to her side to look at him. His face was pale, and his eyes were dull with fever but he still looked alert.

"Yup." was all she murmured, knowing that he would be the one to do the talking tonight. This man could go for days without speaking if he wanted to, but it seemed like, the minute his temperature spiked, the flood gates on his mouth opened and he had a ton to talk about.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, laying his head across his arms. She had to resist the urge to laugh. Not only was he actually starting a conversation with her, but he was actually asking her thoughts, which he usually avoided like the plague. Was it just the fever, or had the past few weeks really changed his opinion of her so much?

"The stars..."She lied. He didn't need to know that she'd been thinking about him.

"You know there is a Cherokee legend about the stars? They had a legend to explain just about anything you wanted to know." He said, looking at her, clearly wanting her to ask questions so he could go on. He almost looked smug about the knowledge he had, so she smiled and asked,

"Well? What was the story?" He gave her a little grin, and propped up on his elbow. This was probably going to be a long story, but Carol didn't mind. She wanted the distraction, and she liked to hear Daryl talk. She had heard him tell stories before, and he got so into them. He looked at peace with himself when he told the stories that were close to his heart or on his mind, and that made Carol happy.

"Well, it started at the beginning of creation. The Great Spirit and all of his fellow people walked the earth with no light once the sun set. The sky was empty, see? No stars, no moon, or anything. It upset the people, because they had things that they needed to do at night. They had night hunters, and they had to check up on their little ones and such, and there just wasn't enough light."

He was making gestures with his hands, and his face was calm. His eyes glittered, and though he kept his voice to a whisper, she could still hear excitement in it. She wondered how often people used to listen to him tell his stories.

"They complained to the Great Spirit, and he was upset that all of his people were upset, so one day, he used all his power and cast himself up to the sky and became the moon. He left his son in charge down here on earth, and the people were pleased. For years, they lived by the light of the sun and the moon alone. After a few years passed, the son of the Great Spirit grew old, and he knew his time had come. When he died, he joined his father in the sky. He became the North Star." He pointed up to the star in the sky, his face contorting with thought as he considered the rest of the legend.

"After that, the people noticed that, every time someone died, the sky would gain a star. When a child would die, the star would burn even brighter then all the others." His voice had hushed below the whisper he had been using, and she could feel his eyes on her, though she had moved her eyes from his. Her throat had constricted, and she found herself fighting tears at the idea.

When she finally looked back at him, he had turned over on his back. He sneaked a glance at her, and continued talking once he realized that he still had her attention.

"I always liked that story, even if it is a bunch of crap. Science says that all they are is just a bunch of shiny little balls of gas, but I liked the idea of the people we lost all being up their together. It makes it just a little bit more bearable, ya know? Being able to think that they aren't just floating around somewhere, or in the ground alone..." His voice trailed off, and from the look in his eyes, she knew that his mind had too. He was probably thinking about his brother, and whoever else he had lost.

Carol flipped back over on her back, searching the stars with new curiosity. Of course they weren't people, not really, but Daryl was right. It felt different with that idea in her head. She spent a few seconds finding the brightest start she could. That little star, she decided, could very well be her little girl. Sophia had always loved the stars, and the moon...who cares what science said? Her daughter would very well be the prettiest star in the sky.

She felt foolish, but at the same time, she felt herself smile. Her daughters face flashed in her mind, smiling and laying in her arms, counting the stars through her bedroom window.

Foolish or not, she could feel the thought easing the pain in her chest.

"Hey Carol?" Daryl's voice was still a strained whisper, but it held none of its earlier enthusiasm. He had clearly been thinking as well. She looked over at him and met his eyes, nodding, waiting for him to speak.

"I don't really know what the hell I believe in anymore, but I'm kinda curious what you make of that story. I mean, its not true, but maybe it is...Even if they aren't stars...Do you think they're up their right now? Floatin' around in the sky? Or in Heaven or somethin'? Merle, and Sophia, and all of the others?"

Carol was caught of guard by the question, and the desperation in his voice. Hadn't she just been thinking the same way?

But this was different, this wasn't just some fantasy to ease her suffering. He was asking her what she believed, and she wasn't quite sure anymore.

She wasn't exactly on the best speaking terms with God anymore, and seeing the emotion in Daryl's eyes, she knew that he wasn't either. She wanted to believe that they were in Heaven, and for the longest time she had convinced herself that it was true, but her faith had been slipping steadily for a long time.

She decided how she would answer.

"I don't really know Daryl. Maybe they are in Heaven...That's what I want to believe anyway. Imagining them just floating around on a breeze and a whim means that they aren't any better off then they were down here. So yea, I think they are."

He gave her a small smile, but didn't respond. She knew now that they were stuck together in the same boat. They didn't know what to believe. They didn't know what was waiting for them after this...and she didn't know where her daughter was, he didn't know where his brother was. All they could do was hope that it was a better place then here.

"Hey Carol?" He asked again, and she turned her face to him. He hesitated with his words, and when he spoke, she could tell he had a lot more to say then what he was about to.

"Goodnight." He hesitated, and she knew that he had a lot more words to say, but he just couldn't push himself to say it, but he didn't really need to. His eyes spoke volumes.

_I hope you're right. _

"Goodnight Daryl."

* * *

**That isn't a real legend, it was just a story that I came up with in order to get to the in depth stuff.**

**I imagine that all of the survivors have a different way of thinking about it, and some might be just a little bit more confused then others. **

**Tell me what you think?**


	10. Hope

**Another Caryl fic. :) (Umm, mindless drabble. I have no idea where this is going)**

**I don't own the Walking Dead**

* * *

Hope was a four letter word that neither of them could really quite define.

A long time ago, Carol thought she knew exactly what it was. For a while, she had a lot of it. She hoped that her life would get better. She hoped that God would hear her prayers. She hoped that everything would turn out okay, because hope was a thing that you had when everything else failed. Everything had failed, and for a while Carol still had hope, because she had a beautiful little girl, and there was always tomorrow.

She didn't have her daughter anymore, and tomorrow was even less of a guarantee then it had always been. For a while, she didn't know if she could hope anymore, but that was all they had left.

Hope that they would live to see another day, hope that they could find someplace safe, hope that they wouldn't lose anyone else, and hope that they could survive.

They'd found a safe place, but they'd lost someone else, and Carol was afraid that she was about to lose herself too.

She'd ran for her life, leaving T-Dog behind. She'd fought her way through, killing only the walkers in her way, no need to push fate beyond the limits it had already stretched to. She'd lost her knife, and she could feel in her heart that she was done for.

She didn't have hope for herself, but, lying in the dank darkness of the supply closet she had tucked herself away in, she hoped and prayed for everyone else in her group, _in her family. _

They'd lost enough already.

* * *

Daryl had never had much time for hoping. Hoping, begging, praying and pleading never got you anywhere in life, he'd come to find out. You fought for what you wanted. It didn't do you any good to go around hoping for good things, because it would usually only let you down.

Sure, it made sense for some people, made things a little easier when their hopes and prayers didn't come true, because they had something else to blame.

He'd lost his will to hope and pray for anything when he was a little thing, and he had kept it that way.

He had heard Maggie's voice on the run yesterday, her hoping that things could still work out, and he let her have it. He didn't tell her that it was pointless to hope for anything anymore, and it always would be. When you got your hopes up, you had to much to lose.

They'd all lost enough.

* * *

She didn't know if it would do her any good, but when she heard their voices down the hall, she hoped that they would find her. She pushed at the door with everything she had left in her, which wasn't much. She couldn't scream, there just wasn't enough energy left in her, and her throat was to sore. She couldn't do it. She pushed the door and hoped that it would be enough.

She could hear the voices getting closer. She could hear Daryl's voice just outside the door.

_Daryl please! Please, just open the door. Please. Please. Please._

She kept pushing the door, but he never opened it.

"We'll take care of it later."

_No! Now! _She wanted to scream, but she still couldn't do it.

But she didn't need to hope, he would come back.

* * *

He'd found her knife, and his world had come crumbling down.

He'd said his goodbyes, and for the first time in years, he had let himself feel just a little bit of hope.

He'd hoped that she was someplace safe, and wherever that someplace was, he had hoped that she was with her daughter, smiling down on them…on him.

But he found the knife, and then all that hope seemed stupid, just like it always had. Hope always let you down.

She'd probably been bitten, and been dragged down screaming.

He had her knife in his hand now, and he clanged it against the concrete of the floor with all the strength he had. It hurt, but he didn't care.

He was done hoping for anything. He wasn't going to hope anymore, he was going to _make it happen. _He wasn't going to lose anyone else. He was going to prove that he was as good as she thought he always had been, even if she would never be able to see it.

* * *

She could him right down the hall. She didn't know how she knew it was him, she just did. It had to be Daryl.

She kicked at the door, made her arms move enough to push it. Everything was tiring, but she kept moving. He would hear her. He had too. He would. She hoped he would.

She tried to muster up enough sound in her throat to scream his name, to scream anything, but it just wasn't happening.

* * *

The creaking of the door down the hall made him sick. He hated it. He hated whatever the hell was behind it too. That damn walker, all those damn walkers in the hall were probably the last thing she'd seen, fighting her way all the way down here, only to be caught, so close to safety.

The knife struck against the wall behind him, and he was on his feet. He didn't know how many walkers were behind that door, but he would kill every one of them.

He had denied it, but he had hoped that she loved him. He had hoped that all those things she said were true. He would never know.

The door swung open, and he was confused. Nothing lunged at him, but then the movement at his feet caught his attention.

Blue eyes, and the most relieved expression he had ever seen. He touched her face carefully. She was real, she was here, and she needed him.

He had her in his arms, and the world they had patched together for themselves seemed almost right again.

He didn't need to hope to know that she would be okay, he knew, because when she rested her head against his shoulder, and she murmured his name, and things were balanced again.

* * *

**I don't really know what I feel about this one, I just don't. I might not keep it...**

**What do you guys think?**


	11. Reflection

**AU Fic requested by Kathleensmilesfandoms, who wanted a Christmas fic of Carol, Daryl, and Sophia enjoying Christmas and reflecting.****  
****I really, really enjoy the idea.**

**I don't own the Walking Dead**

* * *

Christmas day was fading to a close.

Sophia was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by her new toys, grinning like the Cheshire at all of her new possessions.

The little one sure was something. When he had met her the year before, he hadn't been so sure of how he would handle her. He'd fallen hard for her mama, but he'd never been around kids in his adult life, and he didn't want to do anything wrong. He didn't know how to handle kids, hell, he couldn't deal with most adults, but the little girl was surprisingly mature. She was polite, and just like her mama, Sophia seemed to have a way of reading him. She seemed to know what she could say, and what she could do without pushing anything to far. He wouldn't say it out loud, at least not for a while, but he loved that little girl.

A year ago, he would have never imagined him saying that or thinking it about anyone that wasn't his kin, but the Peltier women had wormed their way into his life before he even knew it.

Carol laid in his arms on the sofa, her head resting against his arm, a small smile danced across her lips.

In a thousand years, he would have never imagined himself caring for anyone the way he cared about her. He would have never imagined anyone caring about him the way she said she did.

He'd met her in February, just outside the court house. He was bailing Merle out of jail again, and she was signing her divorce papers, and a restraining order. He'd felt almost automatically attached to the pixie headed little woman. They were similar people, he could tell from the fading bruises on her arms.

He was shit with women, but when he'd asked for her number, she'd given it to him, shy but still with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

They'd talked and talked for weeks, been on a date or two, and somewhere in that time, he'd fallen hard. It was so unlike him, he just didn't trust people, or form relationships, but he'd been unable to resist her quiet charm, if that;s even what it is.

She just had a way of making him feel like he belonged somewhere. He hadn't realized that that's what he had been missing in his life until she had given it to him.

Merle had shit kittens when he realized that Daryl had a thing for her. He'd seen him with her a few times, knew he talked over the phone, but when he actually figured her out, he'd had a fit.

_Why you want a washed up ol' thing like her, Daryleena? You could do better._

But Daryl doubted he could, because in his mind, there wasn't anyone better for him then Carol Peltier.

He'd turned into a big old freaking pansy, but looking at her smile right now, he didn't even care.

She reached up to touch his face, and he flinched slightly. Old habits die hard. She hesitated long enough for him to regain composure before running her fingers the length of his jaw. If anyone knew about old habits, it was her. She still flinched sometimes if he raised his voice, or cowered slightly when he moved to suddenly.

He hated that she'd been hurt, and he knew that she hated that he'd been hurt too.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Old habits die hard, and things were slow to change, but he knew that they would.

A year ago, he wouldn't have imagined himself with a woman to love laying in his arms or a kid that could make his heart melt playing on the floor.

And a year from now, he hoped things would have moved even further along.

* * *

**I wish I had time to make this longer, and better, but I just got to much to do. Hope you enjoyed!**


	12. Death

**Ok, so YouSuchCock had three drabble requests. This is # 1- Death. Defied Canon. **

* * *

It had all been okay, everything had been okay. It was supposed to be a good day! It had started with a little bit of hard work and a lot of laughter from the people he had grown to care for over the months. It had been okay. All of it had been okay.  
Hershel came clanking down the stairs from the cell block, Lori, Beth and Carl leading the way. Daryl could see them all from the fence, Carol and T had joined them, and even from the distance, he could see the smiles lighting up their faces. He motioned to Rick and Glenn, and they followed his eyes to the sight that was awaiting them.

The world, despite the walkers lurking just outside, had righted itself, or so it seemed. Things had returned to normal for a few minutes. Their little family was intact.

Daryl met Carol's eyes and she smiled at him, he gave a small nod in return, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. Her smile got brighter and he let his gaze linger on her, and then it flickered to the other members of his family, before finally meeting Rick's face beside him. Despite the threat of the prisoners still hanging in the air, Daryl felt content. Things were as peaceful as they had been in months, and for a moment, it seemed like things were looking up.

Glenn trailed after them, making their way back to the cell block. Everyone was soaking up the contented air around them before one word shattered the peace.

"WALKERS!" Carl's voice resonated through the air, followed by the sound of gun shots. Walkers were pouring into the cell block, and everyone scattered.

Daryl's feet carried him as fast as he would make them, pulling his crossbow up as he ran, following Rick, hearing his desperate cries for his wife, gone unanswered as she disappeared in the chaos. His feet carried him up the familiar path, his eyes trained on the block, but all he could see was the swarm of walkers, despite the noise, all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears.

_Faster! Run faster, damnit!_ Go! He mentally demanded, pushing himself to the max. When the reached the area, the first thing on their minds was finding the others. Hershel and Beth had locked themselves away. Beth recounted the events.

He ticked them off in his head as Beth told them what had happened. Lori, Maggie, and Carl, they had all been together. Hershel said they had disappeared down one of the hallways together. T was bit. Carol, he didn't say anything about Carol. Where was she? She would be safe.

He told himself, like a mantra, over and over. The others were safe. Carol would be safe. She'd done a lot of toughening up in the last few months. She could do this.

Glenn came then from checking the fences. They'd been cut. Someone was fucking with them, but who? Who the fuck would do this? Daryl's mind went to the prisoners immediately, and he raised his crossbow as Rick raised his gun.

Then the sirens started. It was an ear shattering sound, and it was probably drawing every damn walker around in on them, and they didn't know where else they could get in.

"How the hell could this be happening?" Rick's voice was deranged, and his gun was inches away from the prisoner's face. Daryl kept his crossbow aimed, waiting for Rick's signal. They got an answer.  
The generators.  
They were off to the boiler rooms, going in to face God knows what.

* * *

That bastard Andrew. He'd led them in. He'd cut the fence and tried to kill them all. They left the bitch for dead, and he came back, but he'd taken a bullet to the brain, and now the only thing left to do was regroup. They had to find the others.  
Daryl was on point, Rick and Glenn at his sides, the two prisoners trailing behind. The gross moaning of walkers could be heard all the way down the hall. They slid down the walkway, turning a corner to look dead on into a pair of geeks, gorging themselves on someone.  
Who?  
Daryl's heart was racing when Rick took them down. It was one of their own. It had to be. As they got closer, it was T. His body was eradicated, almost picked clean. Next to nothing left. Daryl felt a kick at his heart. What was going on? They'd gone months with no casualties, and now this? Who else had they lost?

Carol wasn't here. She had been with T, but now there was nothing left of T. Daryl's heart pounded in his chest, and it felt like mere seconds turned into hours as his eyes scanned the ground. Blood stains, a gun, and her scarf. Her fucking scarf. He picked it up, running the material through his fingers for only a few seconds before throwing it back on the ground, the pitiful scarf catching the blunt of his anger in the moment.

That's all that was left of her? A damn, bloodstained scarf? Not even a body? She was probably wandering around somewhere, lost and terrified. Her gun was on the ground, so all she had left was a knife. That wasn't good enough. She was good, but not that good.  
His heart was racing in his ears. She could still be alive, she had run through the doors. She could still be okay, but the look in Rick's eyes said he didn't believe it. They had others to find. He hesitated for a moment, watching the ground. She could still be alive…and if she wasn't…  
No, she was, she would be back, She had to be.

He turned to follow Rick, allowing a cautious hope to fill his heart. She would be waiting for him-them all-in the courtyard.  
That hope shattered to the ground when one blood-curdling scream pierced the walls around them.  
His feet took him off through the door way, faster then he could comprehend, down an empty hallway. No more screams could be heard. He was vaguely aware of Rick and Glenn following him down the hall.  
He was going to walk away. He had been ready to leave the halls, go back to the court yard, wait for her to join them. He had been ready to fucking leave her.

He didn't know how many hallways he went through before he found her. There were two walkers on her, and she was struggling with everything she had. She was reaching towards her knife, only inches away from her fingers, but she couldn't get away. She was whimpering, crying, and kicking, but it didn't look like she had enough in her left to scream.

The geeks took arrows to the head, and he pulled them off of her before Rick and Glenn had even entered the room.

Daryl dropped to his knees beside her, splashing in a pool of her blood, his hands going to the bite wound on her stomach, but there was one on her thigh too, and on her arm. She was to far gone, there were to many bites, nothing could be done.  
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and panicked, and she struggled for a moment, only to relax when she realized who it was she was looking at.

Carol lifted up a blood stained hand, and he took it, curling his fingers around hers. It wasn't something he would normally do, but who the hell cared anymore? He should have.  
He should have been open to this before. He should have held her hand, taken her up on one of her backhanded offers. He should have just told her what was going through his head. Why did it take this for him to figure that out?

She squeezed his fingers, and a harsh whimper bubbled from her lips as her body curled in on itself, into a fetal position on the blood soaked ground. With the sound of her pain, he could feel his resolve slipping.

"Daryl…" Rick's careful voice registered in his ear, but he didn't turn to look. He couldn't turn to look.  
"Just go. I'll take care of it…" His voice trailed off in a hoarse whisper, but he didn't know if he was telling the truth. He had to. She couldn't turn. She wouldn't want it. He had no choice but to do it.

"Daryl…one of us could…" Glenn's hesitant voice joined Rick's, but Daryl still couldn't drag his eyes away from Carol. She was staring him down with her big blue eyes, wide with pain, but still soft, still gentle.

"No." It was strangled, and he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and it stung. He had to be the one to do it. He owed her that much. He hadn't been there. Over the winter, he had promised himself, and her that he would keep her safe, but here she was, dying right in front of him.

"Daryl…" Her voice bubbled up into his ears, as if she was cradling his name on her lips. Carol's free hand reached up, as if to touch his face, but it fell short, and another groan racked her body. The tears on the back of his eyes spilled forward before he could stop them, and he was crying.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He choked and she squeezed his hand. He looked into her eyes, and through the pain, Daryl could tell that, like always, she knew exactly what he was trying to say, all the things he couldn't say. She opened her mouth to speak, and he could tell that she was on her last few breaths.

He hooked his arm around her shoulder, and she whimpered when her body moved. Carol had yet to die, but the fever was already racking her body. It was only moments now. He needed to say something. He had too. She couldn't leave him without knowing everything he had to say. She could read it in his eyes but that wasn't enough.

"Daryl…" her voice faltered, and he lifted her chin to face him.

"Talk to me Blue Eyes. Its okay. I'm here…" He finally faltered, giving in and using the nickname he had given her over the winter. That ever so slightly, affectionate nickname that would always make her laugh. Except that this time she couldn't, she didn't have enough energy left. She was drawing in on her last breath, her pulse was settling into a dull thrum and he knew it was almost over. Her eyelids fluttered, as if she were falling asleep when her last words entered his ears.

"I love you, Daryl."

"I love you too, Carol."

She had said it, she had known what was rolling through his mind before he had even registered the words he wanted to use. He did love her. That had to be what this was. Love and loss.  
She died in his arms.  
And from the gun in his belt, a single shot shattered the silence of the room.


	13. Change

**I thought I would make this one as fluffy as possible because that last one really hurt, and I just…I need this. Yup. I do. For Klaineisbrave.**

**I don't own the Walking Dead**

* * *

She was almost always in the guard tower now. Ever since Woodbury, there was never a moment where someone was not in the tower, looking out to the road, trying to ensure that, at least for the moment, everyone on the inside was safe.

If she wasn't in the guard tower, she was tucked away somewhere in the prison, bouncing a baby in her arms, a smile dancing across her lips and whispering little lullabies. Seeing that made his heart ache, because, not for the first time, he wished that it was her own child sitting there with her, making her smile. Carol was born to be a mother, and little Judith needed one, but Daryl often wondered if it hurt her to help raise another persons child when her own had been lost.

He tried not to think about that now though, idling his way up the stairs of the guard tower, where he knew she would be. He had been avoiding her for the last few days, unable to look her in the eye, or handle her relative proximity since his first night back at the prison.

She'd kissed him, or maybe he'd kissed her, Hell, they'd kissed each other, and at the time, that had felt right, but after she'd left his perch, the full force of the situation had hit him. Things were going to be different now, weren't they? Their relationship had been changing all through the winter, but they had been little changes, but this was something different. How the hell was he supposed to take that? What was he supposed to do? What was she looking to get out of him now? What was he supposed to do? He wasn't up for any kind of grand declarations of love, or some mushy shit like that, but he still wanted to be around her. He'd grown to enjoy her company, and there was no way in hell he could deny that he hadn't liked the way it felt to kiss her, so he was just going to have to man up and figure it out.

As soon as he entered the tower, her eyes turned to him, and he could feel his resolve fading. He ducked his head and didn't return her gaze, even though it still lingered on him. It was always hard to figure out what to say to her, but now it was just damn complicated, and looking into her eyes was not going to help.

He heard her sigh, and he mentally kicked himself for upsetting her, but he still didn't look up. He didn't know what she was expecting, but she was expecting something and he just didn't know how to deal with that. She was only about three feet from him, and her hand rested against the guard rail. He took note of the way her fingers twitched, as if wanting to touch him, but unsure if she should. He wouldn't mind if she did, but he knew that it was about damn time he made a move, just to show her that it was okay. He was sure avoiding her hadn't really done the trick.

"I'm sorry Daryl…" She murmured, allowing her voice to trail off. He looked up, ready to face the blue of her eyes, only to see that she had looked away from him. What the hell did she have to be sorry for? He was the spineless coward that had been avoiding her for three days.

She turned her eyes back at his, and he was surprised to see the meek expression that danced across her face.  
"I realize I pushed a few boundaries the other day, and I really didn't mean to upset you." With the nervous ring to her voice, he realized that she thought he was mad at her.

No. How could she think that? He had avoided her because he was nervous, he had hoped that she realized that, but then again, what kind of inclination had he given her to see that? He had hardly looked at her for three days.

Reflexively Daryl reached out to take her hand, turning to face her, nipping at the thumb of his free hand. How did he tell her that she was wrong?

"I aint mad. I just-" He cut himself off, his voice sounding gruffer then he had intended.

"Just what?" She asked carefully, trying to pry the words from his lips in only the way she could.

"I just don't know how to take this. Things are gonna be different now…between us…right?" He dropped his eyes from hers, staring down at his feet. He might as well stop being so worried about what to say, because she was going to get him to talk, one way or the other. He half way expected her to laugh at how nervous he sounded, but she didn't, only sighed thoughtfully, squeezing his fingers.

"Only if you want it to be…" she paused for a minute, and then she did laugh, only a small, furtive chuckle before continuing.

"Its not like I'm expecting some grand gesture of love or something. I just had to let you know." He swore that that woman could read minds.

Did he want it to be different? He liked the relaxed nature that their friendship had taken over the last few months, but he also enjoyed the way her lips felt on his, the heat of her body against his. Looking up at her now, he figured that there had to be a way for him to have both.

He cupped her chin in his hand then, using his grip on her hand to pull her closer. He swore that if he screwed this up, he would hate himself forever, and probably die of rage fueled embarrassment.

He kissed her, and her free hand tangled in his hair, but she didn't try to take control. She knew that this was his moment to decide what he wanted to happen. He pulled her closer, and the kiss deepened, and he was surprised at himself for how smooth it actually went. He was shit with women, until booze were involved, and that usually only ended in one drunken fiasco. Carol was different though.

This felt real.

Daryl eased his grip on her and pulled away. She was breathless, and her eyes were wide, and for a minute he thought he'd hurt her. He found himself scrambling for an apology to her, and using every curse he knew to berate himself mentally, until she laughed.

Untangling her hand from his hair, she laughed breathlessly and ran her thumb the length of his jaw. Her eyes were wide with bliss he realized, not pain.

"So, I take that as you want it to be different, huh?" She said easily, speaking no differently then she always had.

"Maybe only a little." He mumbled, finding himself embarrassed for some unknown reason, maybe it was the way her eyes were following his.

"Okay then. A little change is good."

Yes, he decided, squeezing her hand carefully, a little change would be just fine.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	14. Scars: Part Two

**Scars: Part Two/Request from BulletTimeScully.**

**I don't own the walking dead**

* * *

It had been such a long time since anyone had pointed them out to her, and even longer since she had really noticed them, so when someone would comment on her scars, Carol would always be caught off guard.

Those scars had become such a part of her body, and pretending they weren't there had become so natural, that it would take her a minute to process what they were talking about.

It had happened a few times over the last few months. The sleeve of her sweater would slip and Lori would notice the old burn mark on her upper arm; The hem of her shirt would lift and Maggie would notice the small white lines that had once been wounds from shards of glass, broken beer bottles probably.

At first they would ask, and Carol would deny it. "I don't remember", or "Oh, that's nothing," had become such natural lies to her that eventually they just stopped asking, and she stopped caring if they saw. Gradually the sleeves of her shirts got shorter, and the sweater was worn less often.

Those scars didn't mean anything to her anymore, and they didn't mean anything to the people she was traveling with, because, by then, they all had their fair share of scars. Hers weren't anything special.

* * *

Daryl hated being stuck in such confined spaces with so many people. It was a necessity, he knew, to stay together, within each others sight range, but sometimes it was damn uncomfortable. Especially when Rick had them all stuck in one room, and a change of clothes was needed.

He would stare at his feet, at the ceiling, at the fledgings on his arrows, anything to keep him from seeing the bodies of his companions. It was out of respect for them all, but also because, every now and then, he would catch a glimpse of Carol's pale skin, and his breath would catch in his throat and he would be distracted for the rest of the night.

Tonight, his eyes were roaming, searching for a distraction from the people he was surrounded by. He made it his goal to stare out the window until the others were done changing, but when his eyes found the stained glass, he saw only the reflection of the one human body he didn't want to lay eyes on.

His eyes flickered from the window to Carol's naked back, because he had seen the reflection already, and for whatever reason, that particular night, he couldn't give two shits less if he saw her.

Her shoulder blades were prominent and every couple of inches down her back, the knots of her spinal column could be seen, but it wasn't her bones that captured his attention. Her back was dotted with scars, some old, faded, and some newer. He had scars all over his body, so seeing them on someone else shouldn't have been an issue. He had more scars then some people could count, but that didn't lessen the sudden rush of anger he felt seeing those scars scattered across her body.

He wasn't surprised that they were there. She had lived in hell, he knew, long before hell had come to live with them on earth; It made him angry anyway.

* * *

Daryl stood watch out on the front porch of the house they were in, leaning on the rail. Everything was quiet, and he was relaxed. No sign of walkers around.

He heard the silent patter of feet against the ground, and didn't need to turn to know that Carol was joining him. If anyone hated the confinement as much as he did, it could only be Carol.

"Still claustrophobic?" He gruffed, watching her hop up on the rail beside him. She laughed.

"Well Yea, its not something that just goes away." They fell into a comfortable silence. Idle chitchat was a waste as far as he was concerned, and she enjoyed the silence to much to break it.

Every now and then, he would glance in her direction, to check if she was awake, or just to gauge her expression. She was staring off into the night, and he found himself checking the visible parts of her skin for scars that he had missed before.

He had mostly ignored the ones he saw before. They were small, easily brushed off, nothing to make a fuss over, but after seeing the ones on her back, he had realized that those scars probably ran a lot deeper then he had previously imagined.

He had to fight off the rush of images that bombarded his mind just then. How had she gotten those scars? How long had they been there? What was the reasoning behind the little scratches on her collarbone or the small white dash just below her hair line? If what he knew about her, and his own scars were any inclination of the truth, those scars were hard won, and probably still kept her up at night. With his mind running in the direction it was, he was caught off guard when a question formed in his lips, even though he didn't want it too.

"What happened?" Upon seeing her confusion, he pointed to the thin white line on her collar bone, his finger tips barely brushing across her skin.

The look of pain in her eyes at that moment made him wish Ed were alive, if only so he could be the one to tear him apart.

"I don't really remember. I have a lot of them like that. The ones that show up one morning, and you can't exactly pinpoint the event from the night before that caused it…." Her voice trailed off, and he knew that she wasn't lying. I don't remember was an overused lie, but in that context, he couldn't argue, he had a ton of those scars too.

"What about that one?" He pointed to the one on her head, his thumb brushing gently against it. She shook her head, and from the way she drew in her shoulders, he could tell that, in her mind, she was flinching away from the memory.

She couldn't talk about it, and he didn't know why he had asked in the first place. A person's scars were the only secrets in the world that they could ever keep. Those were the stories that you didn't want to tell, because the images in your mind were just to horrific. He knew that, so why was he asking? He decided he would drop the questions, but he still had some kind of point to make.

"I guess its not all that important anymore though, right? Just a reminder of what you been through…best left behind." He saw her nod in agreement, and he hoped the conversation would end with that, but of course, it didn't.

"You're right. Its best the scars are left behind, or at least the memory of them. Some of us just have to many to dwell on." Her thumb lightly traced a scar she found on his jaw line, mimicking his earlier movements. He didn't move his eyes from hers, and for a minute, it seemed as if entire conversations were passing between them. Her hand never left his face, she was still tracing scars. They were telling each other the same thing. Scars were scars, and things were different now, so they both needed to leave it in the past.

Best left behind, he'd said, and with her hand on his face, and her eyes trained on his, Carol couldn't see those scars, and she knew that it would be a lot easier to let them go then she had previously thought.

* * *

_I'm not to satisfied with this, but a friend read it before I posted it, and said I should give it a shot, so here it is. Thoughts?_


	15. Childhood and Cherokee Roses

**Random fic idea while talking to YouSuchCock and AGoodNightAsAny the other night. Only a little AU, more like my personal headcannon now.**_  
_

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

* * *

_She was a whole two grades ahead of him, but he was sure that she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen in the whole world. He got to see her everyday during school when the teachers let them all out on the playground. _

_He didn't even know her name, but he when he saw her by the swing set everyday, he wished he knew how to talk to her. She had the prettiest curly hair, and her eyes were big and blue. Blue was his favorite color, so that made her even prettier then she was already. He had never ever talked to her, but he was sure her voice was just as pretty as her eyes. It had to be. _

_Little Daryl Dixon knew that if his big brother Merle was there, he would catch him staring at the girl and he would probably call him some really nasty names, and if he didn't do that, he would go tell her that his little brother had a big ol' crush on her, and then he would never have a chance to talk to her. Ever. _

_She stayed by the swing set with her friends, and she would laugh and smile, and he always wanted to be over there next to her, so that way he could be the one to make her laugh and smile, but he didn't know how to. He didn't know many girls, except for his mama, and all of Merle's "friends" but they didn't act the same way Miss Blue Eyes did, so he didn't think they really counted. _

_Daryl hoped that one day he would get to know her name, so he could stop calling her blue eyes. _

_It was close to the end of the school year, and it was a really hot day on the playground when Daryl decided he had to say something to her, or at least try too. She was in the fifth grade, so next year he wouldn't get to see her again, and he still didn't even know her name. _

_He walked around the fence almost the entire recess, thinking about how he could talk to her, or what would happen if he did talk to her. Would she like him? Or would she look at him like he was gross? His shirt was all faded and old, and he had a bunch of scrapes on his knuckles from where he had been fighting Merle. Would that scare her? He didn't even know. But he would never find out if he didn't go say something!_

_He was still worrying about what to say when he saw the big patch of Cherokee Roses down a little ways, growing over the fence. They were pretty, as far as flowers go, and he barely remembered the story his mama had told him about them. He decided he would pick one to give to her. Girls liked flowers right? It was worth a shot. _

_He picked the biggest, prettiest one he could find, and tucked the stem of it into his pocket. He could do this. He was just going to walk up there, give her the flower, and say Hi. That's all he could do. The worst that she could do was tell him to go away, right?_

_He idled up beside her, his feet dragging against the ground. She smiled a really big smile at him, but she didn't say anything, because he kept opening his mouth like he was going to say something. One of her friends giggled, and he could feel his cheeks blushing, and he wanted to run away just then, and he would probably get really mad at himself, and at her later, but he couldn't do it, because blue eyes was talking to him, and he had been right, her voice was just as pretty as her eyes. _

"_Hi. I'm Carol." She kept smiling, and her friend looked at her like she was crazy. _

"_I'm Daryl." He mumbled, caught off guard by her smile, and how she didn't seem like she was repulsed by him. He felt heat rising in his cheeks again, and he stared at the ground, shuffling his feet in the dirt. He pulled the flower from his pocket and handed it to her, never picking up his eyes from the ground. Her friend laughed at him, and before he knew it, he had turned around, and was running off towards the playground, wanting to hide himself from everyone. _

_He tucked himself under the old slide, and stayed there. That had been so stupid! He could have at least said something else. He could hear Merle laughing at him in the back of his head. _

"_Shut up." He muttered to the nonexistent voice. He started plucking grass from the ground and tearing it to little pieces. He was really mad and he just couldn't do anything about it. _

_He didn't bother moving when he heard someone come up beside him, ducking under the slide; He just tried to put on his best intimidating face, and he was ready to tell whoever it was to go away, until he looked right up and into those pretty blue eyes. _

_Carol._

_He almost said her name out loud, but didn't, because he fell backwards when she kissed him on the cheek. _

"_Thanks for the flower." Was all she said, before she got up and walked away. _

_As she was leaving, he noticed that it was tucked behind her ear, tangled up in her curly hair._

* * *

Daryl didn't know what had made him remember that. He had been in the third grade, that was such a long time ago, and so much other shit had happened to him that year, that he wasn't really sure why that had stuck with him.

Sure, he had remembered it before. When he first saw Carol back in Atlanta, a far sight from what she had been as a kid, and then again, when, for the second time, he had given her a Cherokee Rose, only that time he had remembered the story.

Maybe he remembered it this time because he was sitting on his motorcycle beside the fence to the prison, right next to a big patch of those damned roses, and she was sauntering down the hill, grinning at him in a way that made his heart race.

"Oh Hurry up Blue Eyes! We got a run to make!" It wasn't the first time he had called her that over the last few months, but this was the first time he actually remembered where it had came from.

She hopped on the back of the motorcycle and looped an arm carefully around his waist.

He wondered if she remembered.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	16. Seduce?

**Ummmmmmmm. YouSuchCock requested some Caryl seduction, and KathleenSmilesFandoms gave me an idea for how that could work, so thats what I started off with, but I ended at awkwardness and some weird word wreck. So….yea. Potentially out of character as well. ****Hides In Corner**

* * *

He had almost died. That was the only thing that Carol could think of, lying in her bunk, eyes staring up into nothingness, darkness seeping through every window and every door. No one was stirring through out the entire place, though she was sure Rick, and probably Glenn were on watch outside. It wasn't safe without a night guard anymore.

Daryl Dixon had almost died, and at the hands of human beings no less. The man had thus far avoided any kind of life threatening incidents, and the ones he did were easily overcome. She didn't know why she had been so foolish, but she had been beginning to think that the man was indestructible, that nothing was going to take him away. She hated how wrong she had been.

Seeing him run through that fence earlier had sent a rush of relief through her, as if her body had let go of the breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. But seeing him as battered as he was, as tired as he looked had done something else to her brain. It had shocked her out of the delusion that she had been holding on to. No one was safe. Any of them could go at any time, no matter how good a survivor they were.

Carol still hated the thought, the idea that the entire world was out to get them, and there was nothing that they could do about it. Never had a new day been guaranteed for anyone, but now, living to see another day was an even longer shot then it had always been.

Life was to short to dwell on such things, she thought. Life was to short for a lot of the decisions she was making, that all of them were making. If she could lose anyone at any time, why was she still having such trouble acting on the way she felt?

She thought back to Daryl, and to all the jokes that she had played at him, and all the times she could have said something more to him, and all the times she never did. If life was to short, then why didn't she? In all reality, she didn't really have the time to wait for the perfect time to tell him, or to act on any of the scenarios she had playing through her head. She didn't want to scare him away, or to make him nervous, but she had to at least get her point across; to stop playing games.

Carol wondered how he would respond to that, what he would think of her then. She wanted him to know how she felt about him, but she wondered if that would be to much for him to handle. At the end of the world, he didn't exactly have much to hang on to, and what he did have could be pulled away at any second; That rule applied to all of them though. Despite it, Carol still believed that life was to short. She had to talk to him.

Her feet touched the ground, and a shiver shot up her spine. With every step she took towards Daryl's perch, she wondered if it was the cold that was giving her goose bumps, or the idea of what she was about to do.

What was she about to do? Carol was unsure if she had even decided. She was going to talk to Daryl, at least let him know what was on her mind. She had no way of knowing how he would respond, but after the shock of nearly losing him, she decided it was best that, if she did ever lose him, he left knowing that there was someone on earth who loved him.

She glanced up at his perch, using the narrow shaft of moonlight to gauge if he was even awake. Part of her hoped that he wasn't. Over the last few months, she had discovered that she was a whole lot gutsier then she had ever suspected, but even this seemed a little bit out of her range.

She was going to do it anyway, because he was awake, fiddling with his arrows. She slid up the stairs, clinking her nails against the metal bars to announce her presence. He looked up with a small nod, and a tug on the corner of his lips. He patted the spot next to him in invitation.

"Can't sleep?" She murmured gently, settling herself next to him. She could still back out, could still walk away from whatever she was about to get herself into, but the sight of his blue eyes kept her in place.

He huffed out an almost laugh and responded,

"Nahh. I feel like a got into a fist fight with a freight train." and next to her, he arched his back, popping his joints and grimacing. Struck by sudden inspiration, she spoke.

"Turn around." She laughed at the look of surprise on his face, and was thoroughly surprised when he listened to her. She put her hands on his shoulders and did her best to ease the tension there. She kneaded her palms against his muscle, and probably moved her hands further down his back then actually necessary, but he didn't say anything against it. He must have been in a lot of pain to allow this kind of contact; Part of her hoped that, maybe, his thoughts had traveled in the same general direction hers had. After a minute, he finally spoke.

"Suppose you wanna screw around huh?" He puffed, and she could hear the amusement in his voice, as he referenced her own comment from not to long ago. Even without looking in his eyes, she knew he was joking, but this was as good a shot as she was going to get.

"Only if you want to." Her mouth was less then an inch away from his ear, and he turned around quickly, startled by her sudden closeness. She laughed, and crossed her arms across her chest, winking to alleviate some of the tension between them. Maybe that hadn't been the best move.

The tension didn't lessen though, and the longer he stared at her, the more she felt her chest tighten. She hoped she'd managed to play it off as if she'd been joking, but the look in his eyes said that he wasn't buying, and the way his eyes kept flickering over her, she wondered if he even wanted too. They both sat there for a few seconds in tension fueled silence before she decided to just go for it.

She reached her hand up, gently brushing hair from his face, running her thumb over his brow. He didn't flinch, but he kept his eyes trained on hers. She could see confusion there, she could see caution, but what surprised her was the fact that she could see desire in the way his eyes got wider when she moved closer.

"Don't freak out, okay?" She murmured quietly, before pressing her lips gently against his. With the warning ahead of time, he didn't tense up as much as she had expected him to, but his fists still clenched at his sides, and she pulled away.

She said his name, raising the end like a question, never taking her eyes off his. She was asking his permission, asking if her behavior was okay, if this was what he wanted, and for a minute, she was afraid that she'd pushed it to far. She backed up about a foot, down casting her face, but looking up at him through her eyelashes, contemplating his response. She didn't know what she was expecting, and a small part of her brain was telling her to be afraid, but she willed it down, nibbling at the end of her lip. There was no need to be afraid, she knew Daryl wouldn't hurt her.

It felt like an eternity before anything else happened. He ran a hand through his hair, and she wondered what he was thinking. She couldn't see his eyes enough to tell.

"I'm sorry. That was sort of careless, I know." She murmured, unsure of what to do now. He didn't want to kiss her, and she'd probably just screwed up months worth of hard gained friendship for nothing. She felt heat rising in her cheeks, and for a minute, she hated herself for being so imprudent.

"No…You just caught me off guard is all…" She couldn't make herself look up into his eyes, to busy drowning in self induced humiliation. After a minute, he huffed out a huge breath of air.

"Don't look so put out…" She made herself look up, and the expression on his face sent her into a whirlwind of emotion. He looked conflicted, out of sorts with himself, confused, embarrassed, and what surprised her most was the fact that he looked kind of scared.

She didn't know what to say, and she had no idea what to do with the awkward silence that was threatening to overwhelm them again. She looked at him again, and he looked almost as distressed as she felt. She felt awful for putting him in that position, but she had no idea if she could make herself leave.

Carol sighed, and attempted to swallow her humiliation. She was already here, and she had already pushed some boundaries, so why not just keep going.

"Well fine then… What if I told you about it first, and we tried that again?" She tried to sound confident, but there was just no way that could happen. She ended up holding her breath, waiting for his answer.

"I wouldn't mind that…" Daryl mumbled, and it was one of the truest things he had said in a while. He did want to kiss her, wouldn't mind screwing around with her, but he just didn't know how to make that work. Carol wasn't some drunk slut in the bathroom of some rundown bar. Kissing her, or messing around with her wouldn't be just for him, it wouldn't just be a hit and run, there was to much between them, and despite how tense that made him, he couldn't say he really minded.

Carol could see it written plain as day across his face that he was nervous. She didn't know how to take that nervousness away from him, but she would try as best she could to keep him at ease.

She leaned in carefully, whispering his name, and asking his permission into his ear. Her voice sent chills up his spine, and he nodded his consent.

She was hesitant at first, giving him a chance to reconsider, he supposed, but it was to late for that. He wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed her back the best he could. He wasn't inexperienced, but for once, he didn't mind not being in control.

Her cool hands were burning trails across his arms, under his shirt, a long the waist lines of his jeans when she moved her lips from his. She looked him dead in the eye, and he saw a brief moment of hesitation.

"Can I?" She asked quietly, and he was almost dumbstruck by the question. She was asking permission, and he wanted to tell her that it was to late to turn back now; that she'd turned him on, and there was only one way to flip that switch, but something stopped him. For someone who had been so eager only moments ago, he was shocked to see a brief flash of something resembling fear in her eyes; but then it struck him that the emotions were probably new for her too.

"Keep going, if you want too." He mumbled, making an extra effort to be as gentle with his hands as he could. He tried to convey the message with his eyes, that she had no reason to be afraid of what would happen next, and she seemed to get it, because she moved back in, her lips finding his, but quickly leaving, in favor of exploring his jaw and his neck.

She no longer hesitated, and as she began to get comfortable, so did he. Hands, lips, and tongues explored unabashedly, and indecision was out the window.

The only think he could think of was why they hadn't done this sooner.

* * *

**Pretty Pretty Please leave some honest opinions?**


	17. Love

**True to form, this is a drabble and I have no idea if it even makes any sense, but Its Caryl, so I'm posting it. :)**

**I don't own the Walking Dead.**

* * *

Daryl could feel every nerve in his body twitching. He felt as if his very insides were trembling. He had hoped that the sensation would fade away after the first few times, but it never did because having Carol curled up in the crook of his arm, her head resting against his shoulder, smiling the way she did just did something to him. He couldn't really complain.  
His nerves may have never settled, but Daryl could no longer say he felt awkward being with her, because, if he was being honest with himself, the very minute he stopped worrying about it being awkward, it had stopped being awkward.  
Her lithe fingers swirled circles across his chest, tracing scars that she would never ask about and, not for the first time, Daryl wondered what she was doing there. He still didn't know why she had chosen him. Sure, her options were limited at the end of the world, but she still chose him, no matter how many times he had tried to push her away, she had always come back. Sometimes, he seriously questioned her judgment when it came to people, but he couldn't make himself tell her that.  
She was just to damn good-natured for her own good, but maybe that's why he wanted her around so much. He would never say it out loud, but he liked the fact that she made him feel like he belonged somewhere. He figured he should tell her sometime, just because she did most of the talking, and he was just as far into this as she was.  
There were a lot of things he should tell her, he knew, but no matter how at ease he was becoming in her presence, he was not a man of words. He tried to tell her all these things with the way he acted. He tried to let her know that she was safe with him, that he enjoyed her company, that her presence in his life meant something, and most importantly he tried to let her know that he felt something for her, something real, that he was sure he had never really felt before, or at least not like this.  
He didn't know if it was love or not, but it was pretty damn close, or at least he thought it was. He didn't have a lot of experience with that word, or that emotion. He hadn't heard it in a long time, and the last time he had heard it wasn't really a basis for comparison. He didn't grow up with people that threw around that kind of emotion, or even acted like they had it, so he was unsure of the whole thing.  
One day, he knew that Carol would help him figure it out. She'd helped him figure out a lot of things since he'd met her. Sometimes she's told him what he needed straight up, and other times it had been indirect, with all her little smiles, careful touches, and gentle words.  
Daryl figured that one day she would catch on to all the words that were banging around in his head, and she would somehow help him figure out what he was feeling. He felt kind of stupid though, needing that kind of help. How could he not love her? Even if he hadn't felt much of it in the past, he knew enough about love to know that it changed a person.  
Carol had changed him, right? Or maybe he'd changed himself because of her? Or maybe it had always been there, and he just needed her to help him find it.  
Either way, love was the only damn word he could think of that could scrape the iceberg on what she made him feel.  
He rubbed small circles into her back with his thumb, and she looked up at him, her big blue eyes shining and a smile on her face. Maybe love was the right word, and maybe it wasn't. He'd never really used words before, but she was still here, right? Besides, no matter what words he could find to use, he doubted any of them could accurately describe what he was feeling anyway

* * *

_Well, what do you think?_


	18. Dust in the Wind

_Also called:Daryl can play a guitar, and Carol can sing. _

_This fic has been sitting in my head for the longest time, and I just had to write it. The song, Dust in the Wind is by a band called Kansas, and I love it so much. I also think it embodies the show pretty well. I might rewrite this one day, because I don't really like it, but I want some feedback. :) Enjoy._

_I don't own the Walking Dead._

* * *

Leaving the farm, they had all lost what was left of their personal possessions. There hadn't been much left in the first place, but now there was less than that. They didn't have much other then the clothes on their backs.

They were all looking for something though, while scavenging through the cars and houses they passed; They wanted to find something that they could hold on to, to remind them of home as best they could.

Glenn had found an old guitar stuck in the back of an old pickup, and even though Dale had given him one, and he knew no one knew how to play, he had been determined to keep it. Rick hadn't argued. It wasn't as if they had a stock hold of supplies that needed the extra space.

They were all sprawled out in the living room of some old house one night when Glenn got out the guitar. None of them could play, and he couldn't either, but he plucked at the strings anyway.

"Why do you bother keeping it if none of us can use it?" Beth laughed at him good naturedly, and Glenn stuck out his tongue in response.

"I'm going to teach myself how to play it." Glenn continued to pick at the strings, and it was steadily wearing on Daryl's nerves. The guitar sounded awful, and Daryl knew that the kid would never learn to play if he couldn't even figure out that the guitar wasn't even tuned.

"Lemme' see that thing Glenn." He gruffed from his spot in the circle, holding out his hand.

"Why?" Glenn asked suspiciously.

"I ain't gonna break it or somethin'. Just let me see it"

Glenn passed the guitar to him, and all nine faces in the circle turned to look at him, but his eyes didn't meet theirs.

Once the guitar rested comfortably in his lap, he began plucking at the strings and fiddling with the tuning keys. His eyes were glazed with concentration, and for once, he didn't look so stressed.

Everyone watched him mess with the keys with varying levels of interest, and most of them were pleasantly surprised when little melodies began to float through the air.

Carol wasn't surprised at all. Daryl was the kind of person that was good with his hands, and she figured that he had to have some kind of talent that didn't have something to do with death.

Watching him play made Carol smile, a long with many of the others. Daryl was always focused on something, but the kind of focus that he had now was different then usual. He looked peaceful.

He stopped playing, and drummed his fingers against the head of the guitar before attempting to pass it back to Glenn.

"You weren't ever gonna get to play if right if you didn't tune it." He muttered, and Carol got the distinct impression that he was embarrassed. Glenn pushed the guitar back in his direction.

"Why didn't you tell us you could play? I asked everyone…." Glenn trailed off, but picked right back up to avoid the silence in the room.

"You were out for the count at the time. Why don't you play for us now?"

Daryl shook his head, and looked completely put out by the idea, but with a chorus of "please!" and "Come on!", he finally agreed.

Sighing heavily, he settled the guitar back in his lap. He stated to play.

The song, they were all sure, had belonged to some southern rock band a long time ago, but most of them weren't bothered to figure it out; They were to interested in watching Daryl's hands, and the way his face contorted in relaxed concentration.

When one song faded to a close, he focused his attention on the tuning keys again, unwilling to look into the eyes of the people he knew were watching him. He didn't really care because now that he had started to play, he realized that he had wanted the chance to get his hands on the Gibson since he saw it.

He played a few songs, and beside him, he could hear Carol humming along with them. He didn't look at her, but he could feel her eyes on him, and he knew that she was smiling.

He stopped for a minute to flex his fingers, and he tried to ignore the cheers and applause that were now coming in around him.

"Where did you learn to play?" Carl asked incredulously, scooting forward a little.

"I taught myself." Daryl muttered, casting his eyes back toward the guitar. Carol brushed her hand against his knee, causing him to look at her, and she smiled.

She could tell he was nervous, and she wondered how many times he had played for other people. She could also tell that he enjoyed doing it, no matter how nervous.

From across the circle, Lori spoke before Daryl could start playing again.

"Carol, you should sing. You've been over there humming every song he's played."

A small string of laughs rocketed up from around them all at the look that crossed Carol's face when Lori spoke.

"No way." Carol murmured in response, shaking her head fervently and looking down at the ground.

"Come on! You know the songs, and I know you can sing." Lori persisted, stretching to nudge Carol's arm with her toe. She actually didn't know if Carol could sing, but she was willing to bet that she could. She just seemed like the kind.

"No…." Carol whined quietly, shaking her head again, a little less vehemently. The only person she had sung for in years was Sophia, because, for whatever reason, hearing her mother's voice was the only thing that could keep the nightmares at bay.

"Please Carol!" Glenn added to Lori and soon they all where, and Carol really had no way to deny them.

She sighed exasperatedly, and looked at Daryl, hoping that he would back her up. Maybe he didn't want to play anymore, but he just nodded.

Daryl, despite himself, actually wanted to hear Carol sing. He wouldn't be surprised if she could actually sing very well.

"Fine. Daryl, what would you like to play?" She sat up beside him, and crossed her legs.

Daryl thought about it carefully, and leaned over to whisper in her ear the name of the song, asking her if she knew it.

Carol nodded, remembering the lyrics in her head, and wondering what was going through his head to make him chose that particular song.

He started to play, and Carol could practically hear her heart pounding against her chest. She did her best to keep her voice from shaking when she started to sing alongside him.

_I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone_

_All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity_

Carol could feel herself getting more comfortable with the music as the song carefully moved along, and now that she didn't need to concentrate on her voice, she let her mind wander to the lyrics.

_Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind_

It was ironic, the song he had chosen. Dust in the Wind. That was exactly what they all were. Cast aside and into the storm, left to float around on whim until something kept them in place.

_Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea_

_All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see_

She wondered what he was trying to say, because she knew that Daryl did everything with purpose.

_Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind_

_Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky_

_It slips away, all your money won't another minute buy_

She glanced up into his eyes for a second, avoiding looking at everyone else in the circle. Nothing lasts forever. As soon as the words played from her lips, she understood what he was trying to say. She remembered a conversation they had had, not so long ago.

_Dust in the wind, All we are is dust in the wind_

He'd spoken to her, in a very rare moment of weakness, about his fears of what was to come; They were all just going to slip away, and none of what they were fighting for would last forever.

She'd been the one to remind him that nothing lasted forever anyway, but that shouldn't stop you from enjoying what you had already.

The song faded to a close, and Carol had no choice but to look away, and take the compliments that she was now being paid. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks. Being complimented was still a new thing for her.

It was much later that night when Carol actually got to talk to Daryl. The guitar had been put to the side, and the others were asleep, but Carol could see Daryl fidgeting beside her.

"You play very well by the way." Carol murmured into the dark, catching him of guard with the sound of her voice. He propped up on his arm beside her.

"You sing pretty good too." He murmured, glad that she couldn't see him in the dark.

"It was a nice choice of song...," She murmured, "But I still think you're wrong."

"Wrong about what?" He muttered, even though he knew perfectly well what she was talking about. Part of him regretted being so open with her, but part of him figured that he should start doing that more often.

"We all still have a purpose. We're here for a reason, floating around in the wind or not." She murmured quietly, reaching over to brush her fingers against his arm.

"How do you know?" He murmured quietly, once again portraying that innocence that Carol so rarely got to see.

"I just do."

* * *

**There is a fic that I referenced there at the end. That "conversation they'd had not to long ago" was somebody's fic on AO3 and I thought it was lovely, and I have adopted it as my headcanon. Unfortunetly, I don't remember the name of it. I'll let you know when I remember.**

**I hope you enjoyed.**


	19. Untitled

**I don't remember who requested this, nor do I have access to the original request, so I am not sure if this is what you wanted or not, but I'm giving it a shot. So, Caryl has a son. **  
**Lets see how this turns out.**

* * *

The first time he had taken him hunting, Daryl had been surprised at how quickly his son had picked up the quiet hunter's tread after spending so long stomping around the prison. He had been even more surprised at how easily he had taken to the trails, and tracking the game so easily. Dustin was a natural, that was for sure.

At the moment, Daryl had no problems following him through the woods. They had plenty of squirrels in their hunting bag, and as of now, he really just wanted to get a good idea of his skills. He had the idea of letting him go out on his own in the coming weeks, or at least for them to split up and cover more ground.

Carol would have a fit though, the minute he suggested it, Daryl was sure. She had a hard enough time letting him go as it was. He was 11, and by that time, Daryl himself had been going out on his own for days at a time.

Carol's only argument on that case was that he didn't go out by himself in a forest full of walking corpses.  
Daryl understood what she was saying, had fears of his own, this was his son after all. He'd fought through hell and high-water to keep him alive this long, but watching him sling that old crossbow up, aiming and shooting at the walker in front of him, he was sure he could take care of himself.

He turned around and gave Daryl a grin, waiting for a smirk and nod of his head. Dustin's grin got bigger, and the big blue eyes he had inherited from his mother widened with it.

"Let's head back Bud, if it gets much later, your mama's gonna worry." Daryl told him, watching the kid bound off in front of him, eager to return to his home, but quickly catching himself and steadying his pace once again.

"And I was thinking about letting you go out by yourself tomorrow." Daryl chuckled, catching up with his son and ruffling the shag of blonde hair on the top of his head.

"Really!?" Dustin exclaimed, a little to loudly, clamping his hand over his mouth as soon as the words were out, and quickly ducking around, checking his surroundings.

"I might still, you just gotta watch yourself bud." The boy nodded, and did his best to steel his expression, doing a poor job of mimicking his father, but as soon as they made it back to the truck they kept at the edge of the woods, the kids composure had completely busted.

"So I get to go out tomorrow? Are we goin' on a run? Or am I goin' huntin' or what?" The young boy was bubbling with excitement in the passenger seat of the truck, all but bouncing up and down beside his father.

"I said I was thinking about it. I still have to talk to your mama." Automatically the child's face fell, his grin turning swiftly into a pout.

"You know she ain't gonna let me go." He grumbled, crossing his arms angrily.  
"Don't be like that. You know she's just lookin' out for ya."  
"Yea, I know."

* * *

Daryl found Carol in their cell after sending Dustin to the kitchen with the bag of squirrels. He and Beth could handle it without him.  
She barely looked up from the shirt she was stitching when he leaned against the rail of the bunk, but he saw her smile anyway.  
"How was it?" She finally asked. Daryl knew she was just humoring him by asking, because he gave her the same answer almost every time, but he said it anyway.

"He's getting real good with that bow. He's a natural."  
"Of course. He gets it from you." Carol responded the same way she always did, just with different words, but Daryl still felt his heart swell with pride. If there was anything he was proud of in his meager little existence, it was that little boy.  
Daryl settled himself on the bunk beside her, readying himself for the next thing he was about to say.

"He wants to go out by his self tomorrow." Daryl had asked the question before, several times and she had said no just as many times, and he had prepared himself for the old argument, and was thoroughly surprised when he didn't get it, instead, she just sighed.

"Daryl…" and even though she looked right at him, her eyes were miles away, on a highway, and then on a farm, with a little girl that she would never see again. He swallowed all of his arguments and just took her hand. This happened often. Fear of losing her son the same way she had lost her daughter nearly incapacitated Carol at times. It did the same to him too occasionally, because losing his son was the worst fate he could imagine at his point, but he knew that Dustin would need the experience.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. I tell him we're gonna split up, and he can take his own way, and I'll just trail him the whole way." Carol laughed, and they lapsed into silence for a minute.

"I just don't want anything to happen to him Daryl." She murmured, and he wrapped his arm carefully around her familiar form.

"I don't either Darlin'"

The silence lapped back over them for a moment, and Carol curled up beside him, wrapping her arms around his middle, resting her head on his shoulder.  
"I told you you'd make a good daddy."

* * *

_It was late, very late in the prison, and aside from Rick shuffling around on watch, the only ones awake were Daryl and Carol. Daryl sat against the wall in the bunk they shared, Carol's head resting in his lap. She found herself unable to sleep, so he had decided to stay up with her._

_The air between them was silent and content. Daryl trailed his fingertips in swirly patterns across Carol's shoulder, while her fingers thrummed out a gentle rhythm against her protruding stomach. _

_A small giggle erupted from her, and Daryl looked down to see her staring intently at her hand, which rested on the side of her stomach._  
_"What?" he asked apprehensively, studying her carefully. In response, she took one of his hands and placed it carefully on the spot where her own hand had just been. Carol beamed when she saw his face light up at the feeling of his child's little feet thrumming against his hand. _  
_Though he kept his hand in place, his face gradually fell back into a look of concentration, and Carol quickly guessed the direction his mind had headed. _

_"Are you nervous?" At first he had been worried, and then fearful for her, and then angry at the unborn child, but as Carol had managed to talk to him, and the realization that this was another living thing that was a part of him, Daryl just became nervous. _  
_He nodded, and Carol sighed quietly. She knew why he was nervous, and she wished she knew how to assure him that he didn't need to be._

_"You shouldn't be." She calmly assured him, putting her hand on his forearm and squeezing gently._

_"What if I'm not…" Carol moved her hand from his arm to his lips, cutting off his words with her fingertips. She had admitted to him a while ago, late one night, even later than it was just then, that he would end up like his own father, that he would hurt the child, even if it wasn't on purpose. Carol knew that the thought haunted him always. _

_"You will be though Daryl. You will be a great daddy. I know you will." She did know. She had to much faith in him, recognized to much of the good in him to even think of the possibility._

* * *

"Mama! Come and look at all the squirrels I got!" Carol's reminiscing was cut short by the sound of her son's energized voice jumping out against the concrete walls.  
"Okay! Lets go!" She said, allowing her son to take her hand, and lead her towards the kitchen area. Daryl quickly followed, and his hand never left hers.

* * *

**_Maybe a multi-chap? Maybe not? I might do a couple more chapters, but I am in no place to take on any more long projects. It looks like I need to practice a little bit, whew, I am so out of character._**  
**_Thoughts?_**


	20. Pictures worth a thousand words

**So, I was on the Caryl tag on Tumblr, and BulletTimeScully wanted a thing, and I was already writing a thing, so here is said thing. Enjoy**

* * *

They'd left the prison, and for the second time since the world had become a giant festering pool of corpses, they were on the road. It seemed as if they had a lot less to lose this time, but it was still just the same. Somehow they still had a baby, but they were down 3 people since the last time, and even more since they lost the prison.

Either way, the odds were still against them.

They were all hunkered down in the living room of an old house, it was temporary shelter from the thunderstorm outside. It was more solemn now then it had been at the last house, with Beth sitting awkwardly next to Glenn and Maggie, with the baby in her arms. Without her daddy next to her, the girl just seemed a hell of a lot smaller. And Daryl was on the roof. He wouldn't admit it, wouldn't show it on his face, but losing his brother had messed him up, big time.

Hershel and Merle had both been shot leaving the prison, covering for the others while they fled through the back. They'd made it a little while, Merle through one camp, Hershel through two, but either way, they'd lost them.

Carol stood, propped against the wall, watching her family struggle with the loss, trying to fight back her own tears. She had to do something to lighten the mood, and she had a pretty good idea of what, but she was going to need some help.

She was quick to single out Beth. The girl was trembling, and even focused on Judith, she couldn't stop herself from crying.

Carol moved to crouch down beside her.

"Let Rick take care of her for a little while, I need your help with something."

Beth just nodded, and passed the baby to Rick, who looked at Carol curiously, but took his daughter anyway.

Carol led Beth out of hearing distance from the rest of the group, and into the kitchen, grabbing her bag along the way.

Removing a small book from the inside and handing it to Beth, she smiled,

" I found this a while back, and I've kind of been keeping it a secret, but now I need your help." Beth turned the pages of the book, which wasn't a book at all, but a small photo album, with small Polaroid pictures of their group scattered creatively through the pages. Some of them were written on or next to, while others remained captionless, but Beth was to distracted by the faces she was seeing.

Lori, Carl,Rick, T-Dog, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, her father,herself and even Merle and Micchone made appearances.

"How?" Beth asked her quietly, running her fingers over the pictures. All of them depicted some of the happier moments they had all spent together, around a fire, on a shooting range, playing pranks, and the more recent ones, sitting around the prison.

"I found the camera, and a couple rolls of self-developing film in a car a while back, and I decided we needed some kind of…something. It's not enough, it's not all of us, but it's something. I've been sneaking around getting some pictures for a while. I was going to show all of you, once everything was a little more stable at the prison, but…" Carol didn't need to finish her explanation.

She took the book from Beth's hands, and replaced it with a camera, and a roll of film.

"Your mission, should you choose to except it," Carol joked, attempting to tease a smile out of the girl, it half-way worked.

"Is to get a few more. Be sneaky, or don't be, it's up to you." That actually did light up the girls face, and it only took a few minutes before the flash was rolling.

Beth wasn't as sneaky as Carol had been, but soon the room was filled with a fair amount of laughter, and that made up for it.

Instead of joining in though, Carol slipped off, upstairs, and on to the roof, alerting Daryl to her presence with only the sound of her feet against the wood.

She sat beside him, and in the silence, they could hear the laughter floating up around them.

"What's goin on down there?" He asked her, his voice a little to gruff, a little to strained. In the light of the setting sun, she could see the tear streaks on his face. She pretended not to notice.

"I gave Beth a camera. And self-developing film." Daryl looked at her as if she were crazy, but then his face softened.

"'Bout time the girl started laughin again. Its been gettin kind of eerie. Where'd you get a camera anyway?"

In answer, Carol simply handed him the photo album.

"I found it a while back, and decided it would be a good idea. Especially now."

Daryl hated pictures. He always had. Who the hell had time to sit around and take them anyway? He didn't like having his picture taken, but somehow, there they were, right in front of him, and most of them were okay.

He kept the page open to a photo that she was particularly proud of. In one of the days before they lost the prison, in a particular moment when things hadn't been so stressful, so anxious, Carol had managed to snap a picture of Daryl and Merle together, looking relatively at ease. Judith rested in the crook of Daryl's arm, and Carol remembered Merle teasing him about it.

"You can have it if you want, to keep. That's why I took them."

"Nahh, Keep 'em in the book." He said, but Carol noted that his fingers never left the page, even as he pushed the book back towards her.

His eyes focused on a particular spot behind her, and he zoned out. Carol wondered if seeing the picture had upset him, even more so then it already had, and she was about to voice an apology, when the floor behind them creaked with footsteps.

They both turned around in an instant, only to come face to face with a grinning Beth, and the flash of a camera.

"Aww, you both look so startled, can we try that again?" Beth sniggered, and Carol had to laugh with her, even Daryl chuckled, but then turned serious.

"I don't think so." But there was still the ghost of a smile on his face. Carol looked at him, smiling, about to respond.

**Flash**

"I don't really see why not Daryl, you guys take good pictures together."

And the girl flitted of down the stairs, leaving Carol laughing, and Daryl blushing.

* * *

**:) What do you guys think? BulletTime wanted a camera mishap, and I was writing one with a photo-book of memories, so I combined them.**

**Thoughts?**


	21. Hold Me Now

_Hold me now,_  
_'Til the fear is leaving,_  
_I am barely breathing._  
_Crying out,_  
_These tired wings are falling,_  
_I need you to catch me.-Red "Hold Me Now"_

**Potential Spoilers under the cut. **

**I don't own the Walking Dead**

* * *

They would be here soon. The air was thick with anticipation for what was to come. Everyone was armed, the cars were packed, a last resort if they couldn't hold their own, and no one spoke.

The silence was eerie, but nothing could be said. No one wanted the final goodbyes. They didn't want to believe they would need them.

They were scattered around what they had left of the prison, and Daryl was alone.

He'd brushed pass them upon his return, the look on his face, and the lack of his brother proving the worse had come about. Rick had tried to talk, to console, but Daryl would have none of that.

He stalked away from the gate, leaving Rick's hand grasping for air, and a new wave of anxiety settling over them.

The hadn't much cared for Merle, but going out like that was a fate for no one that was their own, even briefly;And seeing the salty streaks on Daryl's dirt stained face and the puffiness of his weary eyes was painful.

If the strongest among them could be broken, who could really keep standing?

Carol found him outside, sitting on the cat-walk. He'd been cleaning his arrows, but he'd given up, in favor of resting his head in his hands.

She made only enough noise to alert him to her presence before settling beside him on the ground, laying her rifle aside, she reached for his shoulder.

She didn't plan on saying anything, because, in the end, what could she say? She understood the pain.

She only managed to brush her fingers against him before he scooted over, avoiding her gaze, and putting a few feet of space between them.

"Daryl...don't do this.."

She inched closer, steadily, reaching forward again to rest her hand on his knee. He pushed her arm away, not roughly, but firmly.

"Daryl..."she murmured carefully, "I just want to help you..."

" ? No. Just go away." He growled, jumping to his feet and pacing viciously in small circles.

"Well? Just go. I don't want you here." He hissed, glaring down at her, but his anger didn't reach his eyes. He looked so vulnerable. She could see the tears pushing the surface.

"No." She murmured quietly, remaining on the ground, sitting on her knees and watching him.

"Why not?" he yelled, not quite loudly enough to really startle her, but with enough venom in his voice to make her close her eyes, taking deep breaths to keep her in her place.

"You know why." She murmured, in as soothing a voice as she could conjure.

He glared at her, but his eyes were watery. "That's bullshit then."

It wasn't his words that stung, more the expression on his face that had the tears threatening to spill over;but she pushed them down, willing them away in the face of his anger.

She'd seen it before. It wasn't at her, it wasn't at them, this was anger at himself, and at someone who could no longer be held responsible.

"Go ahead. Get mad, okay? Get pissed off, throw something, break something, do whatever you need to, Lord knows you have the right to, but don't push me away. Not after everything." Carol didn't raise her voice at him, but their was no mistaking her tone.

She caught his eyes, and held his gaze for a minute, and she saw it all change. The defiance cracked, the anger shattered, and in those few seconds, the truth came through in waves over his blue eyes. He rested his head against the railing, and his body was raked with sobs.

Carol waited, measuring the length of his sobs, and the sight of his tears. As much as she wanted to go to him, to hold him, she knew that he did not want that.

Seconds went by, and the sobs became noiseless, and she could not stop herself from going to him, touching his shoulder, his face, turning him to face her.

His hands were trembling, and when he lifted them, he did not push her away, as she expected, but leaned against her as she embraced him, his head finding the crook of her neck.

"We can't pull away now, Daryl. We need people to live, to survive. It hurts...but it is the only way we can keep from falling."

He huffed in response, and pulled her closer.


	22. Explanations

**_The Hiatus is killing me already! Let me know what you want to see, please! _**

**_I don't own the Walking Dead._**

* * *

_She'd seen all of his scars before, but this was the first time that he seemed...shy about them._

They lay together in a sated, sweaty tangle of limbs, and for a while, Daryl wore a sleepy, satisfied expression while holding her in his arms. It had been a long time coming, and well worth the wait, but as the night wore on, and minutes of peace turned to hours, the heat of the moment seemed to disappear.

Carol watched his expression turn gradually from peacefulness to anxiousness. She stopped her fingers from tracing his scars, and sat up, carefully untangling their limbs from one anothers.

Daryl had a natural instinct to avoid certain situations, and she wondered if that was what was washing over him now. Carol had hoped that she would be able to work that out of him, at least for her, but, from the looks of his face, it hadn't worked.

She pulled the blanket up and wrapped it around her shoulders, and left they sheet splayed across his body.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." She finally mumbled, looking him in the eyes.

Daryl wondered where she had gotten the impression that he didn't want to be here with her, and realized that it was probably because the anxiousness that had filled him up had probably filled his eyes as well.

He didn't know how to tell her that it had nothing to do with her, or being here with her. As nervous as he had been, being with her was exhilarating, and he would do it again.

"It's nothin' like that...I wanna be here...I just..." He struggled for words, and Carol noticed for the first time, that he had pulled the sheet up a little, and his hands were pawing nervously at the scars that he couldn't cover.

Intuition flashed in her eyes, and she smiled gently at him.

Carol layed down beside him again, wrapping her arms around his torso and peppering his jaw with kisses.

"You don't have to give me an explanation. I understand." She whispered in his ear, kissing the scars that were within her reach. He pressed his lips to her forehead in a gesture that was not nearly as awkward as he had expected, and carefully examined the curve of her back, and what he saw there.

He knew she really did understand.

* * *

_**Well?**_


	23. A different kind of sorrow

**So, though I've been trying to work on requests, this AU idea has been kicking my brain and demanding to be written, so this is a small snippet of said AU. I don't know if I want to elaborate on this, or just leave it. **

**I don't own the Walking Dead or it's characters.**

* * *

Thunder roared and lightning was quick to follow, cracking open the North Georgia sky and opening the flood gates. The rain came softly at first, and then all at once, sleeting across the road and pelting the windshield of Daryl's truck.

From the way the sky was looking, it was going to get a lot worse, but Daryl had no intentions of turning around, no intentions of going home. It felt good just to drive when he had so much on his mind. He left the window rolled part of the way down, and the cool air was soothing to his nerves and to the heated flesh on his back.

It didn't matter how old he got, when his daddy took off his belt, there wasn't much else he could do but get his ass he had needed to do was get the rest of his stuff from that old shit trailer, but Merle was off God knows where doing God knows what, so he'd had no choice but to go at it alone.

He'd driven down these back roads so often, and the task of driving had become so monotonous that he dared take his eyes of the road, preferring to watch the rain overtake the land then to keep his eyes on the road in front of him, and that was the only way he would have seen her.

In the distance, walking on the side of the road, Daryl recognized the mass of auburn curls and the slight figure of the girl. Instantly he slowed down, wondering what the hell she was thinking being out this late at night, this far from town while it was storming. He reached over the bench seat of the truck and rolled down the window so she could hear him over the howling wind.

"What the hell are you doing?" He called out to her, but she kept walking, and he noticed an awkward limp and swing of her hip that was not a normal to her graceful stride.

"Carol!" he pulled the truck up a couple feet, matching her stride. As he got closer, he could see the cut-off denim shorts, a white shirt that was soaked through, bare feet, and when she turned back to look at him, those damn sunglasses that covered half of her face.

"Come on, get in the truck." He called to her, and she only hesitated for a minute.

"What the hell Daryl, you scared the crap out of me." she muttered when she hopped into the passenger seat.

"Well, you're lucky I even saw you. What the hell are you even doing out right now anyway?" He didn't mean to lose his temper with her, he rarely did, but sometimes he wondered if the girl really thought her actions through.

She didn't look him in the eye, or maybe she did, but he couldn't see through the sunglasses.

"I needed to get out for a little while." her voice was soft, and he could hear the chatter of her teeth, despite how she tried to make it stop. Rolling up his window, he instructed her to do the same, while reaching behind the seat to pull out his poncho; an old stitched together thing he's made out of a horse blanket when he worked on a ranch.

Giving her a ride had seemed like a good thing a minute a go, but now, handing her the poncho, and watching her wrap up in it, he could feel the insecurity creeping up his spine.

He'd known Carol for a while. Not all his life, but for a damn good bit of it. She was quiet, she didn't get in his business, so he was able to tolerate that. But lately, something had been different, something had changed.

They'd spent a lot of time together recently, and he'd began to notice things that he'd never noticed before, and things he damn well should of.

Like right now, he could see the bruise that was forming around a red whelp on her wrist, and despite the sunglasses, he could see the bruise that was probably going to stay there for quite a hands were trembling and for the first time since she'd got in the truck, he noticed the small wound on the right side of her cheek that was still bleeding slightly.

He recognized that. That was the kind of cut you got from being hit with a fist covered in rings.

He knew she had it rough at home, and she knew the same, but they never spoke about it, never brought it up, but something was different this time.

Something was screaming at him that this time was worse and something needed to be said or done.

He pulled the truck over, and cut it off.

"Let me see." He instructed, trying to keep his voice in check as not to startle her any further.

"What?" She asked him, mouth slightly agape, confusion radiating from her lips. He understood that. Most of the time, he never bothered to care, so this must have caught her off guard.

"Damn it Carol, you know what." He growled at her, and she flinched slightly, making him instantly take back the anger in his voice.

"Take of the sunglasses and let me see what he did. I can probably make it stop bleeding at least." He muttered in a softer tone, moving slowly to face her.

It wasn't a surprise to see the bruise on her face, but it both angered and saddened him to see the pain and exhaustion that had fogged her normally fierce blue eyes.

It's a different kind of sorrow, seeing someone you care about (even reluctantly) in so much pain. When the passion is replaced by pain, the spirit replaced by fear, and the curiosity replaced by reluctance, it puts you in a place of emotion that you can't quite get a grasp on. That's what he felt just then, dabbing the side of her cheek gently with a clean rag from the dash console.

"Why do you stay Carol?" He caught the gleam of the wedding band on her hand, and the sight of her tiny hand grasping at her stomach, and he knew exactly why. He'd seen it happen before to many other women, and men alike, Hell, it had even happened to his own mama, but he couldn't help but think that Carol could be the one to break that chain.

"It's complicated Daryl." He knew it was. He knew that it wasn't that simple, that she couldn't just up and walk away, but he still wanted to yell and scream and vent all this rage that was welling up inside him. He didn't know where it had come from, all he knew was that it was because of her, or maybe because of himself, and the people that were putting them both through hell.

"This looks pretty bad, are you feeling okay?" Recently he'd noticed all the bruises and such, but he still didn't know the extent of her pain tolerance, and being cracked in the face with a ring was something that would sting for days.

"Yea, I'm fine. Thank you." But her voice had given out, and the relief she claimed didn't reach her eyes. He saw the tears welling up behind blue irises, but she looked away, willing them down in his presence because she knew how much it bothered him.

"Don't cry Carol...Please." He murmured awkwardly, putting a hand carefully on her shoulder, unsure of how to make it stop. He moved back over to his seat, and watched her for a minute, taking in her figure again. The bruises he recognized as normal, but the way she kept her hand on her stomach suggested that there fight had been more than a bastards idiotic squabbling. He thought back to the awkward way she'd been walking earlier, and he hoped that where his mind was leading him was far away from the conflict at hand.

He willed down his nerves, and attempted to shake out whatever shyness he felt so he could reach over and push her damp hair out of her face, cupping her chin in his hand.

"Tell me what happened Blue eyes. I'm here to listen." He murmured, using the nickname he had chosen for her back when school was still a subject of conversation.

"He was just really mad...apparently he knows that I was with you the other day, and that just makes him jump to all kinds of conclusions..." her voice trailed off in a hysterical squeak, and she shifted in the seat uncomfortably. The poncho slipped and through her shirt, he could see bruises trailing all the way down her sides, disappearing underneath her shorts.

He could tell she had something else to say, so he dropped his hand from her chin so he could take her hand in his, rubbing circles into her palm with his thumb.

"I was pregnant, or maybe I still am, I don't know...He was convinced that it was yours, and I told him that was crazy, but he was pissed off and irrational, and he got really violent, more then before, and he said that if I was pregnant he was going to make sure it was his and there was just so much blood after he-" she cut herself off with her own hysterical fit of tears which was probably for the best, because he wasn't sure how he would handle what her words were implying.

He didn't know how to handle crying, least of all his closest friend, but he couldn't stand to hear it, especially after what she'd just said. She'd been pregnant? But she said she didn't know if she was still? He couldn't even let himself be annoyed that the bastard was accusing him of sleeping with her, at this point in time, all that mattered was her, so he did something he hadn't done since he was a small child, and his mother had still been alive.

Very, very gently, he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close in a tight embrace. She was startled into stillness for a minute, but quickly overcame it in favor of his arms.

They stayed like that for longer then Daryl imagined he'd be comfortable, but feeling her breathing stabilize and hearing her frantic cries growing smaller and smaller made up for it.

When she pulled away from him, the sky had taken on the blackest of hues and the moon had hidden it's face behind storm clouds. The rain had lessened from a storm to a drizzle, and he knew that time was running short.

Apparently, Carol realized it too.

"Can you give me a ride back? The longer I stay away, the worse it's going to get." She murmured quietly, sniffling, and rubbing her eyes carefully with the back of her hand, much like a small child. As much as he hated the idea of taking her back to that asshole, and as much as he relished the idea of beating his face in, he knew that Carol was right, and that the violence on his part would not help.

They drove back to town in silence, and he dropped her off a little down the street from her house. Before she got out, however, he touched her face again,

"You know how to get a hold of me. Call me if you need me." She gave him a small, halfhearted smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"I will." was all she replied.

Daryl couldn't have described all of the emotions stifling in his chest at that moment, because watching her walk back into that house was a different kind of sorrow all together.

* * *

_Thoughts, comments, ideas?_


	24. Childhood

**Tis a random drabble, ye be warned. Response to a tumblr request! Caryl as surrogate parents..in a sense.**

* * *

Her name was Lizzy, and she was only one of the many orphaned kids that were now running around the prison. She was ten years old, but already she had shown that she was more then eager to help her new group do whatever needed to be done.

Although Carol and Beth had started lessons, teaching the young ones how to defend themselves, the little girl seemed to take it a step further, going as far as to trail after Carol on her watches or while she was working somewhere in the prison.

At first, Rick had been worried about it causing a distraction for Carol, and as that was disproved, he worried that having a little girl, so similar to Sophia in size, stature, and appearance would upset her, but she seemed to enjoy Lizzy's company, and relished the idea of teaching the little girl.

That wasn't much of a surprise. Carol had such a natural way with kids that handling Lizzy's constant presence just seemed like something she could do well.

What surprised Rick the most wasn't Carol, or the gutsy little girl that had become her shadow. What surprised him the most was Daryl.  
His friend hadn't exactly taken well to the older newcomers. He wasn't rude, but trust and respect just wasn't something he dished out to everyone, so it surprised him when Lizzy took to him as well.  
When Carol was on a run, doing a job somewhere Lizzy couldn't follow, or just taking the chance to sleep, she followed Daryl. At first, all the children had been intimidated by Daryl, but overtime, something had changed (Rick suspected that it was the fact that Carol was at ease around him that showed that they could be the same.)

Lizzy was a lot quieter with Daryl, and not as bubbly as she appeared with Carol. She still asked questions, still asked for demonstrations when Daryl was doing a task that she didn't quite comprehend, and Daryl nearly always obliged.

Over the groups first winter, Daryl had proved his patience as a teacher while helping Carol learn what she needed to know, but assisting a grown woman in learning and teaching a child were two different things, yet he proved himself to be good at that too.

After a while, it became apparent that the child didn't just look to Daryl and Carol as teachers, soon it became apparent that they were more her examples then anything. She'd taken up their mannerisms, and their language (Rick and Carol had urged Daryl to watch his language around the girl, and all of the children, and Carol had reprimanded the girl, even if she thought it was amusing.)

Lizzy was with them all the time, even when there was no work to be done, or lessons to learn. She liked talking to them, and hearing them talk, and it dawned on Rick after a while that she responded to them as if they were her parents, rather then her mentors.

They taught her, they looked after her, and on occasion they reprimanded her, if necessary. Whether Daryl and Carol noticed this, he didn't know, but he did know that both of them were happy with having the child's affections.

It was tragic that all three beings had lost everything that they had before the end of the world, but it was a lovely thing that they all had each other now.

* * *

**Thoughts? I don't really know how much I like this, only because I've been out of practice for so long. **


	25. Don't go there

**Yikes, I'm out of practice, but here goes another attempt at a tumblr prompt. **

* * *

It has only been two weeks since the people from Woodbury had arrived, but already they were proving to me more difficult then they were worth.

Maggie was getting ready to go on a run with Daryl, Glenn and Carol. That was a larger group then they were used to taking, but it was rather difficult to gather enough supplies for everyone that was at the prison with only two people.

"Hey Maggie, ya'll are going out on a run today, right? Need any extra hands?" The voice that showed up beside her belonged to Tyreese. Since he and his sister had joined the group, they had been eager to prove to Rick and the others that they were worth their salt. They were pretty good to have around, and they didn't make bad company, but Maggie was determined to only go on a run with her family today.

"Nope, I think the four of us can handle it. It's a pretty simple list we've got today." She responded, turning to face him as she finished loading her gun.

"Four? Whose going with you?" Tyreese asked her, probably searching for a way to squirm his way into the mix.  
"Glenn, Daryl and Carol." She responded busily, packing ammo in her pockets.

"Carol? I didn't know she went on runs with you guys," Tyreese murmured, his voice was shocked, and Maggie suddenly felt the need to defend her friend.

"Carol is more then capable of going on runs with us, actually, she's pretty good to have around." The bite in her voice was probably unnecessary, but Maggie had watched Carol grow into her own, and having some new guy question that didn't sit well on her nerves.

"I wasn't saying that she couldn't, I mean, that's not what I mean…I was only thinking, Carol is a pretty impressive lady, isn't she?" He breathed out quickly in defense, and once his voice steadied, he continued,

"and you know her better than me…so, you wouldn't happen to know if she was, I don't know, single or anything, would you?"  
Maggie snorted, cocking her head to the side and raising her eyebrows, unsure of what to say.  
Was Carol single? As far as Maggie could see, the answer was yes, but here lately, she and Daryl had been getting a hell of a lot closer than they were at the farm, and on the road, if that was even possible.

She didn't know if they were exclusive, or even if the idea was in their heads, but she knew that they were really close, and both felt very strongly about the other.

They acted like a couple sometimes too, if she was being honest. Even if it wasn't exclusive, even if they were only close friends, she didn't want to risk messing that up by giving him false hope, so she didn't give him a definite answer,

"Don't go there."  
_

Maggie hadn't given him a real answer, so Tyreese felt no qualms about talking to Carol. It's not like he was flirting with her or anything, and even if he was, why shouldn't he "go there"? She had strong relations to her group, but for the most part, she seemed unattached.

"Hey Carol, I heard you were going out on the run today." He smiled at her, watching her pack ammo into a small bag attached to her belt.

"Yup. Why, do you need something?" She responded kindly, to focused on her task to actually look him in the eye.

"Nahh, I was just curious, you don't usually go on runs, do you?" Carol looked at him, and for a moment he was unsure if she had offended her or something, but she responded just as sweetly as always.

"No, I don't usually, but they can't expect me to sit around here forever." She ended her sentence with a laugh, and Tyreese found himself questioning, not for the first time, what she thought of him.

She was always sweet, talked to him if there was room for a conversation, but the more time he spent at the prison, the more he recognized that she was like that with everyone. Was that why Maggie had told him what she did?

"Carol, you ready to head out, Glenn and Maggie are already outside." Daryl's voice invaded the silence from the door, snapping Tyreese out of his thoughts long enough to watch Carol as she and Daryl were leaving.

He smiled and offered a goodbye, to both of them, out of respect, but his smile dropped as he caught Daryl's eye.

His eyes were narrowed, his face concentrated on something, wearing an indefinable expression, intimidating, yet indefinable. The look was gone almost as soon as Tyreese noticed it because now Daryl's attention had moved towards Carol.

She was backing out the door, tugging on the sleeve of his jacket impatiently, eager to leave the prison. He walked outside after them, watching Daryl poke her in the ribs gently, as he said something to her. Tyreese could here Carol's tinkling laugh, followed by Daryl's much gruffer one.

He found this odd. Carol smiled and laughed with everyone on occasion, even the new ones, Daryl didn't. The smile on his face was a new sight for Tyreese, and even if he'd seen Carol smile before, the look on her face while she was with Daryl couldn't have been anymore different.

From the side of the car, Maggie was watching him watching them. She shook her head, and that's when he realized.

_'Oh. That's why I shouldn't go there._

* * *

**Opinions please? I haven't put much thought into the whole Tyreese/Carol/Daryl dynamic because in all honesty, I can't see it, despite the comics. So this one had to be short, simple and to the point, but most likely will be revisited once the show starts back again, and I can see a bit more. **


End file.
